Recovery
by Kajima
Summary: I knew I had to change things, to escape the in-between of love and hate, of the lust for life and the longing for death. If I saw him again, would I know? Would the answer suddenly be revealed to me? AU GrimmIchi.
1. Call It Off

_**A/N: Okay, so I lost all patience and decided to start posting this story now. I can only hope you love it as much as Birgitt-sama does. Please regard me kindly...**_

_**Warnings: Angst ahoy! Obvious activity of the homosexual nature and the odd moment of odd humour.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Recovery<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Prologue: Call it Off<strong>

_I won't regret saying this,_

_This thing that I'm saying._

_Is it better than keeping my mouth shut?_

_That goes without saying._

_Call, break it off._

_Call, break my own heart._

_Maybe I would have been _

_Something you'd be good at._

_Maybe you would have been_

_Something I'd be good at._

_But now we'll never know._

_I won't be sad but in case_

_I'll go there everyday,_

_To make myself feel bad._

_There's a chance I'll start_

_To wonder if this was the thing to do._

_-Call it Off, Tegan and Sara_

* * *

><p>I woke up in the same fashion as I always did. Well, over recent months anyway. Sleep left me, my body started to wake and before my eyes could open, my mind had supplied me with images of <em>him. <em>

Of course I knew that when I eventually mustered the strength to open my eyelids and shift my body to roll out of bed, he would not be there. I could already feel the freezing fabric that covered his side of the bed. His _old _side of the bed_. _I hated having to remind myself of that fact every morning. It was getting really old, and I didn't want to deal with it.

Nor did I want to deal with the pain in brought forward, even after all this time. I pinched the bridge of my nose, where I felt my sinuses begin to sting with what I knew, if I didn't stop it soon enough, would be tears. At least the brief spurts of sleep I was achieving at the moment were dreamless. What was wrong with me? It had been months since.._._

_How many months exactly?_

The thought popped up unprecedented in my mind and I wondered why it hadn't before. For the first time in what seemed like an age, I flipped open my phone case and looked at the date. It happily told me that it was Tuesday the first of March, 2010. I forced my heavy body to sit on the side of the bed and promptly put my head in my hands, fingers massaging my eyes.

_Wow, it's been almost six months. _I let out a small, bitter snicker. _And exactly one month since we last spoke. _I tried not to think about how that was my fault. It was easier to blame him.

I looked around the floor of my room with bleary eyes, kicked my way through some rubbish, picked up some clothes I assumed to be semi-clean. I sniffed at the armpit of a white tee shirt and decided it would do - I'd just bung on some extra deodorant today. Pulling it over my head, I simultaneously rooted around for jeans and my favourite flannel shirt.

Once-black, now-grey skinnies were pulled on and I looked down to see they weren't so skinny anymore. Shit, if I lost anymore weight I'd look like a fucking holocaust victim - I needed to get back to the gym. _Sure, Ichigo. Just add that to your fucking to-do list, along with working out what you want to do with your life and getting over that asshole. No biggie. _I outwardly sighed and pulled on the shirt and a studded belt. Couldn't have my ass hanging out at work now, could I?

I walked up to my full-length mirror and briefly checked I was suitable - well, as suitable-looking as I could get - for my shift. My mirror presented me with the familiar image of a scrawny figure, bloodshot eyes complete with heavy bags, and my usual ridiculous hair. At least that still looked the same as ever. Bright orange, if a little dirty - I honestly couldn't remember the last time I'd showered - and pointing in all directions.

I quickly pushed a hand through it, more out of exasperation than an attempt to smooth it - God knows I'd given that up years ago - and collected the things I'd need for the day. In five minutes I was out of the door and only running marginally late. _Pfft, as if Urahara would care._

Looking back, I don't know what I would have done without work during that time. It gave me a kind of routine - although the hours were a bit all over the place - and some sort of focus. Urahara Shoten, a small retro candy shop, was run by a middle aged guy who I'm pretty sure was always stoned… But he was good to me. He was lenient with my occasional - okay, maybe _habitual - _tardiness, and the pay was pretty good considering the guy only seemed to have enough money for one outfit.

As I approached the front of the store and began to fish around for my keys, the doors opened and there he stood, arms open as if embracing the air, with a beaming smile on his face and his typical hat 'n' clogs get up. I found myself rolling my eyes. _Yeah, he was definitely stoned._

"Good morning, Kurosaki-san! And what a wonderful morning it is, if I do say so myself!"

Urahara's smile didn't falter as I rolled my eyes and pushed past him, through the store and into the staff room. If I was going to put up with _that_ all day I needed coffee, and lots of it. As I set the small kettle to boil and spooned far too much instant coffee into a mug, my phone beeped and buzzed in my pocket. Wondering who the hell it could be, I flipped it open and went straight to my messages.

_Hey baby. We haven't seen each other in ages, sorry I sort of fell off the radar for a while… You know how things are. I have a proposition for you, text back when you can xxx_

I didn't recognise the number, but I knew it could only be one person. No one else had the guts to call me 'baby' and the only person I hadn't seen for a while, who used proper grammar in her texts… I quickly typed a reply.

_Hey baby. You've got five before I gotta work. Spill._

I smiled. The muscles ached from under-usage, but it felt good to actually have a tiny bit of happiness warming the pit of my stomach. I poured the still-rumbling kettle and stirred my coffee as her super-fast reply came through.

_We're going to start going for dinner. It'll make us see each other more. You working til 6? I'll meet you after xxx_

The smile increased. Dinner with Rukia, eh? I could see how that could be fun. It really had been too long. Since the whole thing with Kaien, she really _had _fallen off the map. _But then again, so have I. Since… _I shook my head and typed with one eye open as I chugged my scalding coffee.

_See you then sugartits._

The shift sped by pretty quickly - there were plenty of cleaning jobs to be done even if there weren't all that many customers - and I was once again left wondering how Urahara even made money. I shrugged. _He probably deals weed on the side. _With a small smirk on my face, I yelled good-bye to him over my shoulder and pushed open the doors. _Freedom! _

"Let's go get wrecked! I mean… Eat!"

I could have cried at the sound of that voice. It wasn't until that moment that I realised how much I had missed this woman. I hadn't known her all that long, maybe around two years, but she had become a massive part of my life. She was the sort of friend that, even if we didn't see each other for weeks or months, you knew would be there for you if you needed them. If you wanted to be left alone and mope, as I had been doing for the last month or so, she was cool with that too.

I smirked at her petite form, taking in her outfit - torn, high-waisted, bleached denim shorts with over-the-knee socks and baby pink Doc Martens on her tiny feet. The torn sleeves of her band tee revealed a peek of the deep purple lace of her bra and she still had that annoying bit of hair between her eyes that she could never get rid of. She looked, in a word, _hot._ I lazily walked up to her and threw an arm around her shoulders. I had to lean down to do it - she really is tiny - but it was worth it so I could rub my forehead against hers.

"Hey baby, long time no see. You look as stunning as ever."

I felt her nuzzle back slightly before grabbing my hand and twining it with hers. She pulled me along as she began to skip down the street.

"I wish I could say the same for you. You look like you need to eat a burger or twelve. On which note..."

A wicked smile crept onto her lips. She hadn't offended me in any way. I knew I looked like shit.

"… We're going to Seireitei! If we want a table we've got to hurry. So chop, chop."

I smiled at that. Seireitei was our favourite haunt - a trendy burger bar which served alcohol, and other substances if you knew who to ask. We hadn't been there for months. Around six months, actually… I gulped audibly and tried to avoid the barrage of thoughts that accompanied that amount of time. I felt Rukia tugging on my hand, and I looked down at her. She had a frown on her face that probably would have sent any other guy running. To me, though, it was just cute. I knew she was just concerned.

"Come on, we'll go get fed, wasted and you can come back to mine. We'll rant and smoke and it will be like old times."

She smiled softly and I squeezed her hand in return. I know to other people we probably looked like a normal young couple, holding hands and nattering away. But we'd never been like _that _with each other. That would just be wrong. I guess our relationship would be hard to describe to outsiders. You see, Rukia and I loved each other with all of our souls - we often surmised that we were the same person, as it was difficult to find anyone else as insane as the two of us - but not our hearts.

Our hearts belonged to other people. People who no longer wanted us.

I felt the familiar stinging in my sinuses and sniffed it away. Tonight wasn't about _that,_ tonight was about Rukia and I. Speaking of which, I tuned back in to what Rukia was saying. She was ranting about her current fling - I called him that because I knew in three weeks he'd be out of the picture and replaced with a more handsome, funnier version - and how he was annoying her. I wasn't surprised. Everyone fell for Rukia, but she was incapable of falling back.

_Like me._

"Speaking of annoyances, how is Renji?"

I shuddered visibly.

"That bad, huh?"

"I ended it." Came what was supposed to be a blunt reply. But, as ever with Rukia, I ended up spilling more than I intended. "And now he won't shut up about how much he _misses _me and he _loves _me. Makes me sick in my mouth a bit."

"Gross." She replied. _Ah, Rukia, I knew you'd understand. _"I feel kinda bad for the guy, I mean, he's alright really… But after going through the exact same thing with Ishida," She paused to mimic my shudder. "I know how fucking annoying it is."

I smirked. I had wondered when the subject of Ishida would come up. He and Rukia had had a brief - and I mean _brief _- relationship a couple of months back and he would _still _not stop texting me about how distraught he was. I mentally shrugged. _I knew it would never work. _Rukia was wild, into drink and drugs and embracing her unstable mentality. Ishida was stuck up his own ass and probably the most sane - and by sane I mean mind-numbingly _boring _- guy I had ever met.

I'm amazed she had even gone there. But, in her own words, she had 'wanted to be normal for a while'. She had toned herself down around him - almost as much as with Kaien - to the point where when we would go out and get wasted, Ishida would blame _me _for her 'behaviour'. Apparently I 'made her crazy.'

_Pfft, bitch is already off her rocker without me. All the more reason to love her._

"So what made you finish it? I thought you were dead into him. And vice versa of course."

"Yeah, I was at first… He just got a little _too _into it. It was kinda creepy, he'd keep stuff I'd left on his floor when I visited him and he made a calendar…"

I trailed off with a grimace, gesturing a square with my hands that was supposed to portray the freaky hand-drawn countdown Renji had made for my arrival.

"Then when I ended it, he acted like I'd broken up this big relationship. And he kept calling me his 'boyfriend'. Not only had I _not_ agreed to that, but you know how much I hate that term."

She nodded wisely in return.

By the time we reached Seireitei, Rukia was once again rambling about her current fling - and the future one she was planning. It really was scary how similar our taste in guys was.

"You don't understand, Ichigo. When I say tattoos, I mean _tattoos. _As in, _everywhere. _As in, _facial_."

"He sounds buff as, baby. You should point him out to me."

I winked at her jokingly. I could never talk like this around anyone else without them thinking I was serious, and probably excommunicating me.

"Sharesies, yeah?"

She was laughing as we entered the restaurant. As we ate I let her command the conversation as she wished - we talked about the guys she'd been seeing or wanted to see, guys in Seireitei, and of course after 'a bottle of wine each, please. He'll take red, I'll take white. House.' the conversation took a sombre turn to two particular guys.

The exes.

Maybe I should explain. I know I've brought up the name Kaien a couple of times already. Perhaps I should tell you about him. If you haven't guessed already, he's Rukia's ex. Ex-_fiancé_. She always uses certain phrases and a certain tone of voice when talking about him and I'm afraid, being the good friend that I am, I can't help but speak the same way about him.

You see, when Rukia was with Kaien, she _changed. _And I mean to the extreme. She became this girl I didn't recognise - this girl wanted to get married and have children and live in a cottage in the countryside - whereas the Rukia I knew wanted to get out and see the world, learn new things and photograph every corner of the earth. Not limit herself to one guy, one house, once place. Even so, she believed she was happy.

Okay, so that was from an outsiders' point of view - _my_ point of view. She couldn't see all of that herself, at the time. From the inside, well, I only have what she told me.

He lied to her. He _promised _her things. About them. About their future. She had to deal with threats from his insane ex-girlfriend, had to deal with her spreading lies about how Rukia had cheated on Kaien, done this and that with what's-his-face and what's-her-name. She had to regain his trust again and again but believed he was truly worth it.

What else could it be called, except love? Love is blind, after all. She couldn't see him lying to her, hear the false promises whispered in her ear, feel the fact that he had truly betrayed her, _used _her, until recently.

She had an, um, _episode, _you see. When she was with Ishida. It's what broke them apart, apparently, although I knew it would happen sooner or later. She went a bit more crazy than usual, took a few more drugs than usual, got a bit too _unstable _for Ishida. You want to know why?

Kaien had told her those four forbidden words. The words that no one ever wants to hear, let alone from the person they love so desperately.

"_I never loved you."_

Hell, who wouldn't break at those few words? I know that I would if I heard them from-

"Ichigo? You ready to leave?"

My head shot up and I realised Rukia was already shrugging on a leather jacket she had stuffed in her bag. I nodded and followed suit, standing and chucking some money in the general direction of the bill.

"I'm thinking pick up, then back to mine?"

I smirked and nodded once again. I was kind of relieved we'd be going back to Rukia's flat and not my insane family's home.

"Yeah, I'm going for a slash. Meet you out back."

"Forever the charmer…"

She sniggered as she waltzed up to the bar, and I retreated to the bathrooms.

* * *

><p>I was lying on Rukia's kitchen floor, surrounded by empty beer cans, watching smoke unfurl from my mouth and rise to the ceiling, when Rukia finally vocalised what I knew she had been dying to ask all evening.<p>

"So… How is the whole 'being friends' thing going?"

Even though I had expected - and perhaps even waited for - that question, it still felt like every single one of those words stabbed straight through my ribs and into what was left of my heart. I gulped audibly and sat up slowly. I raised my head to look at her - slumped against the cupboards, feet free from the Doc Martens and long socks and clapping together in a nervous fashion - before passing the joint to her and resting my head in my hands.

I massaged my temples and tried to think of how to tell her what I had done. I knew she'd find it hilarious, hell I still had to chuckle a little at my actions - or more accurately, words - but I was still rather reluctant to traipse through all the details. After all, I hadn't told anyone about it, and I knew Rukia would want to know _ev-er-y-thing. _She spoke again before I had the chance to, taking a long drag on the end of the God-knows-what-number blunt of the evening.

"Not good, I take it? I didn't think it would work. After all, I couldn't even think about being friends with Kaien after what he d-"

"I did something stupid."

She stopped at that. Paused. Took another long toke and puffed it out into my face. I didn't mind. I was used to it.

"Spill."

"Well, really, _he _did something stupid first."

"Still not using his name? Don't blame you." A third drag. "So what did he do?"

"You know Inoue?"

Rukia choked on the smoke that was trying to make it out of her lungs. I passed her a beer from the crate beside us. She opened it and chugged what must have been half the can before she looked up at me with wide eyes and large pupils. Her eyes not leaving mine, she bent back to grab the ashtray and placed it in front of her, stubbing out the end.

"You have _got _to be _shitting _me."

I could only shake my head and grab another beer for myself.

"He's got better taste than _that… _And a woman? Well," she tittered to herself darkly. "If you could call that _little girl _a woman."

I could only nod my head in agreement. It was ridiculously painful to talk about. It felt like, instead of a heart, there was a big fucking rock sitting in my chest.

"So wait… What was the stupid thing _you _did? Other than Renji."

Her snide smile and small laugh eased the weight on my chest a little and my mouth pushed up to match the shape of hers.

"I called him a filthy pedophile."

I was promptly covered in beer, nicely warmed and frothy having been expelled from Rukia' mouth, and then deafened by her laughter. After only a few seconds I found myself following suit, genuine laughter bubbling from me for what felt like the first time in years, tears springing to the corners of my eyes, hands shaking the beer off them and grabbing a tea-towel to wipe myself down. Having decided that I didn't really like being soaked in beer, I removed my shirt and chucked it in Rukia's face.

"Eww!"

She threw the shirt over her shoulder, onto a counter, and resumed her laughing.

"Oh my god, I can't believe you called him a _pedophile_! That's _amazing_!"

She quieted down to a soft chuckle and I joined her, feeling lighter still.

"So what did he say to that?"

I paused and felt my muscles tighten as I sat up rather straight.

"He, ah, he didn't say anything. We haven't spoken since."

"And when was it that you last contacted the _filthy pedophile_?"

Her tone was now serious as if that were, in fact, what my ex was.

"Well it was exactly one month ago… So, the first of February."

"Well I must say, I'm proud you haven't fallen into the begging texts… Yet."

The last word was a whisper, but I still heard it.

"That won't happen, Rukia. You know... It's actually been kind of easier _not _talking to him."

I took another pull from my beer and looked up into her eyes. She was staying silent, waiting for me to continue. I knew I didn't have to hold back. Whatever I said, she would support me and hell, probably even agree with me.

I crawled across the small distance between us on my hands and knees, rested next to her on the counter. She dropped her head on my shoulder - soft, warm and comforting - and I rested my head on top of hers. Her arm curled around mine and I sighed, bringing my beer can to my mouth with my free arm.

"It's kind of easier to pretend he doesn't exist, you know? Like it never happened. Like I never fell in love with him, I didn't spend the last three years of my life with him, like… Like I never ended it."

I felt her arm curl tighter around mine and the tears I had been evading all day pool in the bottom of my eyes. My throat had clenched up during the last few words and I was having difficulty swallowing. My beer can returned to my lips and I chugged the remaining liquid in one. Problem solved, I continued.

"But either way, it feels like it's gonna hurt, you know? I try to forget about him, but I'm still going to see him in the street, maybe even with _her._" I spat. "I'm still going to hear people talk about him. You know he's the manager at that new café-bar place down the road from Urahara's? I have to walk past it everyday. But having him in my life as a friend… It just hurts too much. I have to watch him move on and enjoy his life - living in _our _flat, sleeping in _our _bed, while I can't, because _I _ended it."

"But, Ichigo… You know you had good reason to end it. It was the right decision. It wasn't working."

"I know Rukia, but I should have fucking _made _it work. I didn't try hard enough."

"Ichigo!"

She cried as if she was in pain and I winced slightly. I knew what was coming.

"Don't you remember? The lying? The arguments? The amount of times you had to stay at mine to get away from him? Ichigo… You need to remember why you broke up with him."

"I know! I know I do! But it's so fucking difficult to focus on that stuff! You know what? People always told - not asked me - when I first broke up with him, how I must not love him the same way anymore. How I must love him as a friend now, not as my boyfriend. But… But that was never true. I loved him the same, Rukia, the _exact same way_, but he only started trying for us once I had already given up. I _shouldn't have given up-_"

Her hand struck hot against my cheek and I felt the tears spill over. My eyesight glazed as she quickly wrapped both her tiny arms around my torso.

"Are you trying to tell me you still love him?" She shook me a little. "Are you, Ichigo?"

I dropped my head to her shoulder and breathed in through my nose, taking in the scent of her sweet perfume mixed with marijuana smoke. I slowly wrapped my arms around her tiny frame, reciprocating her gentle gesture.

"...Yes."

She held me tighter then. We rocked backwards and forwards, and she whispered an apology into my ear. Told me it would be okay, we'd get through this together. We always did. Told me I'd be staying the night, to roll another joint whilst she fetched my pyjamas - a ratty tee shirt and pair of boxers that I left at her flat when I used to stay over a lot. I set about rolling the final smoke for the evening, grabbed the ashtray, and walked dazedly to her bedroom.

She came in soon after, throwing the hole-ridden clothing in my face, and quickly stripping down to a tee shirt and tiny pants. I took the moment to observe her and marvel that, was I not gay, we would probably have a completely different relationship. This woman was truly beautiful in my eyes. I knew for a fact we would never hurt each other the way _they _had hurt us.

"What's the time?"

She muttered tiredly from my chest, where she was finishing off the joint. I flipped open my phone and stared at the black screen.

"Fuck knows, my phone's dead."

"Wanna charge it?"

Without waiting for an answer, she hopped up, barely missing my tee shirt with the still-lit blunt, and fished around for her charger - thank God we had the same phone - all the while giving me an excellent view of her ass. _Ah, if only you were male. _My reverie was cut short by a block of plastic with metal prongs landing on my chest, and I plugged it into the wall nearest my side of the bed.

Although, really, Rukia and I didn't have 'sides'. We just kind of curled up in a ball in the middle of the bed and moved around in the night, and she wouldn't chastise me if my morning wood happened to poke her in the back when we awoke in a mess of limbs. I attached my phone and chucked it into the corner of the room without looking at the clock. No matter what it said, I knew I wouldn't be at work on time tomorrow.

* * *

><p>"Shit, Ichigo."<p>

"Nnn…"

"Ichigo, wake up. It's three p.m. You need to be at work, like, three hours ago. Although..." She shifted a bit from underneath me. "You might wanna take some time to sort _that _out."

I shifted my eyes open. As feeling started to seep into my limbs I realised that I had a rather large boner and it happened to be digging into Rukia's thigh. I slowly pushed myself off her, not bothering to apologise - hell, she was used to it - and rubbed my eyes with my fingers.

"I think I'm gonna call in sick. I feel rough as shit."

I coughed harshly into my hand and felt the hot sting of smoke at the back of my throat. I crawled slowly over to the corner of the room where my phone lay, intent on phoning Urahara. He wouldn't care anyway.

"You are so lucky to have a pot-head for a boss…" Rukia muttered. "Thank God I have the day off. Maybe we should go pick up then come back he-"

She stopped talking. She must have seen my face.

"Ichigo? What's wrong?"

I couldn't answer her. I could only stare down at my phone as it so cheerily told me that I received a new message yesterday evening. That in itself was a shock, no one except Rukia, on the odd occasion, and constantly Ishida - _bane of my life_ - text me during that time. But there it was, as plain as day, the number still saved under the nickname that he loved me using, and I loved calling him. The name I would shout as we argued. The name I would choke out when he made me cry. The name I would scream when we made love.

_Grimm._

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: I hoped you enjoyed the little taster of what is to come! Reviews greatly appreciated.**_


	2. On My Own

_**AN: Thank you to everyone who read, favourited, followed and reviewed so far. It means a lot to know you're enjoying it. So, here is the next instalment to my first ever multi-chaptered fic. How exciting~**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter <strong>__**One: **__**On **__**My **__**Own**_________

_On top of the world, _

_Sitting here wishing._

_The things I've become,_

_Something is missing._

_Maybe I… What do I know?_

_And now it seems that I have found_

_Nothing at all._

_I want to hear your voice out loud._

_Slow it down, slow it down._

'_Cause without it all,_

_I'm choking on nothing._

_It's clear in my head,_

_I'm screaming for something._

_Knowing nothing is better than knowing it all._

_On my own._

_-On My Own, The Used_

* * *

><p>"Ichigo…?"<p>

It was Rukia. Fuck knows how many times she'd called my name already, but I just couldn't respond. My eyes kept darting over the text in front of me.

_So. It's the start of a new month and I haven't been in contact for a while. I really don't want that to carry on. There's so much to say but anyway... If you're up for talking or texting then tell me. Hope you're OK._

My heart thundered in my chest and my breath came short.

_How __could __he __just __do __that? __How __could __he __just __fucking __text __me? __I __was __doing __so __well-_

"Helloo?"

There was a dainty hand waving in the space between my phone and my face.

"Earth to Ichigo? If you don't phone your boss he's probably going to presume your dead? One of the most common side-effects of weed is paranoia? Hello?"

Before I could blink my phone was ringing and buzzing in my hand. I started and saw Rukia jump from the corner of my eye, before pushing off the floor and moving away. I tried to clear my throat, managing only to agitate it more, and pressed to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Oh my! Kurosaki-san, you sound awful! I understand why you're not in work yet."

"Ah, yeah. Sorry Urahara, I'm not going to make it in today..."

I glanced over at Rukia, who was halfway through changing, gesturing at me with two fingers and mouthing the words 'days off.'

"Or tomorrow. I've come down with some kinda flu. My whole family has it. It's like an epidemic over here."

"Fear not, Kurosaki-san! Take as much time as you need. I have Yoruichi-san staying at the moment, I'm sure I can force her into manual labour if needs be! Do take care."

"Uh, yeah… Thanks."

I pressed end without saying good-bye and silently thanked the Gods that I would not have to be around Yoruichi-san for the next couple of days. She was lovely really - as loud as she was intelligent and exotically beautiful - but she seemed to spend most of her time trying to seduce me.

I'm not trying to be big-headed, that's genuinely how I felt. Why else would she just start getting naked in the middle of a conversation? I shuddered slightly at the thought. Nope, couldn't go there if I tried.

"Ichigo?"

Rukia had crawled back over to me, having donned some tartan leggings and a long black tank top with multiple rips, showing off glimpses of a black lace bralet.

"What was that about before?"

_Oh shit. _

The brief shock of Urahara's phone call had distracted me from the text message that still sat in my inbox, waiting to be dealt with. Slowly the stone cold feelings of panic, anger and hurt rose like bile to my throat. The rock was back in my chest. I replied in a rush of words - it felt as though my lungs couldn't get enough air to function properly.

"He text me."

I watched her violet eyes widen as she crawled even closer and placed a hand on my cheek, stroking once, before taking my phone from me to read the message for herself. I tried to swallow but damn, it felt like someone was sitting on my chest.

I could feel the panic rising - up from my stomach, where it roiled and bubbled, to my throat, where it burned and scratched. It moved into my jaw, locking it. Found its way into my sinuses, blocking them and eventually it reached my eyes, where the sting of fresh tears indicated an oncoming panic attack.

I was glad Rukia didn't notice, her eyes on the scrolling text of my phone, as she vocalised the very question that was invading my brain.

"What are you going to do?"

It was a few minutes before I could answer. She sat there, patiently waiting for me to compose myself, settling one of her petite hands over my wringing, shaking ones.

"I don't fucking know, Rukia."

It was all starting to rise to the surface, all the stuff I had so expertly shoved down over the last few months, and I'm ashamed to say I heard my voice break a little as I confessed that to her. I pushed my fingertips into my eyelids and took heavy, long breaths. I could do this. I just needed to not think. This didn't have to turn into a full-blown attack. I had learned to control it, this thing - whatever it was.

"Fancy regressing? I'll join you."

I peeled my fingers from my eyes as looked up at her. She was studying me carefully. God bless this woman, she knew what I needed. I stared off to the side for a while, trying to push down all the thoughts. I just needed to go back to how I was. Stop thinking, stop feeling. Zombie-fy myself. Forget he existed. I looked back at her and nodded once.

"Temazies?"

* * *

><p><em>January 26th 2010, 21:00<em>

"_Ichigo…"_

"_Hnn?" _

_Ichigo crawled out backwards from where he had been rooting around under his desk, playing with wires, and looked up at the older man quizzically._

"_I… Uh… You know when you said earlier, about news? About if I had any?"_

_Ichigo remembered it well. That afternoon, the conversation had fizzled into a tense silence. So, he had asked the mundane question, in the hope of receiving an answer other than the 'no, not really' that he got. He simply nodded in response. He was tired now, heaving boxes filled with his things from one place to another all day took it's toll - both physically and emotionally. He just wanted this man out of his house so he could attempt to get back some sort of rationality._

"_I know I said I didn't… But I kind of do."_

Shit.

_Ichigo __didn__'__t __know __how __exactly, __but __he __knew __what __was __coming. __Wide __amber __eyes __shot __up __to __search __beautiful __blue. __Orange __eyebrows __furrowed __further __than __their __usual __scowl. _

No.

_He __sat __there __for __a __few __minutes __in __silence, __waiting __for __the __other __man __to __continue, __hoping __that __he __wasn__'__t __about __to __say __what __Ichigo __thought __he __was._

"_Ichi… There's this… Someone recently let me know that they are, uh… Attracted to me."_

_Ichigo felt his eyebrows furrow impossibly far. His stomach churned violently._

"_You've been seeing them."_

_It wasn't a question. Ichigo knew what the answer was. The other man raised one blue eyebrow before coughing into his hand and looking away. He was clearly uncomfortable about telling the younger man._

"_Uh… Yeah."_

"_Since when?"_

_Ichigo didn't bother hiding the anger that was rising in his chest as he spat out those words._

"_Around the beginning of the year."_

_Ichigo was happy to see that the other man at least looked a tiny bit ashamed, even if he didn't really understand why. The expression he wore didn't suit him, though, and that made Ichigo nervous._

"_Well, then, I suppose I should tell you that I am also seeing someone. You know Renji?"_

_A flash of shock passed over the older man's face before he simply nodded, his face settling back into a frown._

"_That guy you had a crush on at college? Wow…"_

"_Yeah. It's going pretty well actually. It turns out he'd always had a crush on me, too." _

_Ichigo pushed, trying to gauge the other's reaction. His orange head cocked to the side slightly. _

"_So who's your new guy, then?" _

_Ichigo __was __trying __to __sound __conversational, __trying __to __keep __the __tone __of __his __voice __light __and __not __betray __the __immense __panic, __anger __and __jealousy __he __was __feeling __at __that __moment. __Sure, __he __had __been __seeing __Renji __for __longer __than __the __other __man __had __been __seeing __his __new __partner, __but __he __didn__'__t __care __about __that. __That __was __different. __It __wasn__'__t __like __he __and __Renji __were __anything _serious. _It __was __just __light-hearted __fun __and __lots __of __sex. __Ichigo __quickly __looked __up __back __into __blue __eyes __and __away __again. __What __if _he _had__… __Had __slept __with __this __new __person?_

_Ichigo felt bile rise slowly to the back of his throat. _

No. Please, no.

_The __images __wouldn__'__t __leave, __though. __Images __of __the __man __he __slowly __sat __next __to __on __his __old __single __bed __leading __a __faceless __figure __through _their _home, __into _their _bed__… __Pounding __this __other __guy __into __the __mattress __where _they _had __made __love. __Ichigo __swallowed __with __difficulty __and __looked __back __up __to __the __oddly __silent __man. __He __was __picking __at __the __blanket __they __sat __on, __frowning __at __the __stray __threads. __Thinking __he __had __either __forgotten __the __question __or __was __avoiding __it, __Ichigo __prompted __him._

"_So?"_

_Pained aqua eyes bored into watery amber. A deep breath taken through licked lips._

"_Ichi… It's not a guy."_

"_What." _

_Ichigo __blurted __the __word __out __before __he __could __stop __himself. __He __just __couldn__'__t __hide __his __shock. __He- __he _what?

"_Do you know… Inoue Orihime?"_

Oh holy fuck no. Anyone but her.

_Ichigo promptly choked on the air he was trying to inhale. His eyes were wider than he thought possible, his jaw slack as he tried to comprehend what exactly it was that his ex was trying to say._

"_Are __you __trying __to __tell __me __that... __Not _only _are __you __currently __seeing __someone __of __the __female __species, __but __said __female __is _Inoue_? __Are __you __fucking __kidding __me?__"_

_Blue eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown._

"_She's actually really sweet, you know."_

_Ichigo audibly growled. The twisting pain he had come to recognise as jealously gained fervour. He didn't know the girl, not really. He'd only ever heard of her in passing, seen her from a distance. He felt filled with a sick curiosity._

"_So what is she like, then? Do tell me, Grimmjow, because I'd love to know how the Walking Airbag has wormed her way into your life."_

_The older man shrugged. Ichigo studied his posture with narrowed eyes. His shoulders were relaxed, when Ichigo wanted to see them tense. His eyes were indifferent, when Ichigo wanted to see them narrowed. He wasn't even looking at Ichigo any more. He didn't look like he cared at all. _

Psht. As if he even acted like he _cared _in the first place.

"_She's… I dunno, girly."_

"_Wow, __it __sounds __like __you __two __know __each __other __so_ _well.__" _

_Ichigo deadpanned. He didn't even try to restrain his sarcasm as he openly shook his head from side to side, mouth still open. _

"_You can't seriously have anything in common."_

"_We like some of the same music-"_

"_Wow. So what… That's it? You both listen to a couple of the same shit bands? Oh, and to think that for all these years I didn't believe in soul mates… Way to prove me wrong." _

_Ichigo __clapped __and __congratulated __himself __on __his __progress __s__o __far. _

No tears yet. Just focus on the anger, Ichigo. You're the one in the right here.

"_So where the hell did you find her? A street corner?"_

_Still __no __reaction. __Where __was __the __fucking _reaction?

"_She works at Arrancar…"_

"_Your old work? What, you trying to tell me she actually has enough brain cells to make a cup of coffee? Where the fuck does she keep them, her tits?"_

_Ichigo was shouting now, his voice hoarse, his hands balled into fists, shaking violently. He couldn't look at the older man any longer, his eyes wide and staring at the blanket as he willed tears not to form and escape._

"_So what, Ichi? You're allowed to move on and I'm not?"_

_The voice was deep, rumbling and quiet. Too quiet. Ichigo looked up, pain marring his features as he finally made eye contact with the older man._

"_That's not…"_

"_That's what it sounds like to me. You're seeing someone new, I'm seeing someone new. This is how break-ups work, Ichigo." _

_His voice raised a little with his temper. _

"_It's not all Ross-and-Rachel, happy-clappy, breaking-up-then-getting-back-together bullshit. This is real life, now fucking deal with it."_

Ah, there's the Grimmjow I know. Angry, cruel.

_Ichigo lowered his head further, so it sat on his chest. He couldn't help but reach out a shaking hand and clench it around the material at the front of the other's shirt. He tugged until the man shifted forward slowly, pulled Ichigo closer, where he promptly curled up into a ball and pushed his face into the other's chest. Large, muscular arms wrapped around Ichigo's lithe waist. Large, warm hands curled around Ichigo's shoulders, gripping almost painfully. _

_Ichigo pushed his nose further into the shirt fabric and inhaled, taking in the older man's scent. He still smelled the same - a combination of the lime shower gel and tropical fabric softener they used to use, his favourite aftershave, and coffee. Ichigo felt cool air on his neck as the other took a deep breath against it, brought a hand up to thread in orange hair._

"_It's just… So difficult, Grimm." _

_Ichigo couldn't help the small sob that tore from his throat as he choked on those words. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to push his face against that chest and bawl his eyes out. To have the older man rock him back and forth, stroke his hair and whisper words of comfort into his ear. Wipe away the tears as they fell from his eyes. _

_But he couldn't have that one thing. It simply wasn't appropriate anymore. He knew, deep down, they shouldn't have been holding each other like this. But he wasn't about to push the older man away. Not when..._

"_Shh." _

_Ichigo was surprised to find that he was swaying slowly, ever so slowly, gently back-and-forth in the other man's arms. _

"_I know, Ichi. I know."_

_Ichigo allowed himself a moment of weakness. It had only been around three months since they had broken up, he should be allowed to do this, right? He wrapped his arms around the other's broad form, grasped as if holding on for dear life, as he let another sob wrack his frame._

"_Grimm… Grimm…" _

"_I know, Ichi…"_

"_I… I really wanted us to work out. I really did, Grimm. I-I-"_

"_I know, Ichi. I wanted it too."_

"_This… This is the right thing to do, isn't it? We made the right decision, didn't we?"_

_Ichigo did not receive an answer. The rocking simply continued, a large hand rubbing his back, as he continued to cry silently into the fabric of the larger man's shirt. Eventually the tears died down, and Ichigo was left exhausted in the comforting heat of the other's arms. He closed his eyes and began to doze off. He didn't know how much time had passed before soft words were spoken into his ear._

"_Ichi? I'm gonna head off, it's getting late. Get some sleep."_

_Ichigo only nodded against the man's chest and sighed. The older man grappled with the bed-sheets on the small single bed until he could make Ichigo lie down, cover him with them. He was silent as he pushed a hand through Ichigo's spiky locks, and when Ichigo looked up at him for the last time, he saw the normally alert azure eyes were glazed over, and rimmed with red._

* * *

><p>Around three hours later I had resumed my favourite spot on Rukia's kitchen floor, feeling the most relaxed I had been since I had given up the drug that currently made its way through my system. She had joined me this time, and lay to the left of me, both of us on our stomachs. Her iPod was plugged into some speakers nearby, and she was singing along gently.<p>

We each had a cigarette dangling from our lips, ashtray positioned between us so we wouldn't have to reach too far to dispose of the butts. It was an excellent set-up for chain smoking, I discovered. An empty pack of twenty already lay discarded somewhere on the tiled floor, wherever it had landed when I had thrown it over my shoulder.

"Where'd you put the green?"

Rukia sat up a little in order to reach a hand into her bra and pull out the small plastic bag. She tossed it to me silently before hefting herself up to get rizla and roach from a drawer. Whilst she was up, she grabbed my phone from the side, checking the time, before laying it down in front of me - face up, lock screen glowing, telling me it was six-thirty p.m.

"Nice background."

She smirked and I laughed a little as I realised what I'd set it to. An old picture of us. We looked like shit - skinny as fuck, dark circles under our eyes and giant pupils - but we were smiling. We were both topless, Rukia in a scarlet bra that made her pale skin glow, and each had an arm around the others waist. It was a difficult time to remember, but one that reminded me that we could get through anything, together. I dragged my eyes away from the picture and began to roll a joint.

"So are you going to text him back?"

Things like heartbreak are a lot easier to think about when you have a nice cocktail of substances floating around in your system.

"I don't know, Rukia. You got a light?"

She rolled onto her side and pulled a zippo from the waist of her leggings. I took it from her and flicked it open, taking a long pull on the now-lit joint. I held and slowly exhaled before continuing.

"I mean… What is talking to him going to achieve? It's not going to change anything. He's not going to stop fucking Inoue just because I start talking to him. He's not going to fall back in love with me if I apologise for what I said… Not that I ever would."

I snorted bitterly, took another toke and paused slightly as I tried to de-jumble my thoughts.

"I'm angry at him and it still hurts. But he's moving on - he's got a new relationship, new job… It'd probably be easier for him to forget about me, too. So why the fuck did he text me?"

I wondered all of my thoughts aloud as they popped into my head, hoping that Rukia might make some sense out of the word-vomit. She simply shrugged, and then said words I could never have expected to come out of her mouth.

"Maybe he misses you. Maybe he still wants you, but seen as you ended it, he's trying to be respectful and keep his distance by being friends."

_Way to give me false hope, Rukia._

"No way. Respectful? _Grimmjow? _You know that if he still wanted me, he would have come to fucking get me by now."

I shook my head and took another pull on the joint before passing it to her. She raised her eyebrows as she took her own toke before blowing the smoke sexily out of the corner of her mouth.

"Whatever you say, babe. It's a possibility and you know it. Maybe he's changed. Look at the things he said when you argued, it's clear as day in my eyes."

I only continued to gape at her as she smoked, and I tried to make sense of such a situation. I barely remembered the texts we had exchanged when we last spoke, except for my essay in which I told him - in several different and explicit ways - how much of an asshole he was. _Maybe __I __should __read __back __over __them. _I shook my head, that was a whole other kettle of fish and I'd deal with it later. For now… I had to work out what I wanted.

"Look Ichigo, just text him. Just tell him what you told me, the truth. See what he says to that. It's not like you have anything to lose."

I prodded my phone until the lock screen flashed at me, and gazed at the background again. I knew Rukia was right, Rukia was _always _right. Unlocking the screen, I tapped on the message icon and read over the text he had sent. Taking a deep breath, I started to type a reply.

_I really don't know. I don't want to upset you, but part of me has found it so much easier to pretend you never existed for a while… And the other part of me hurts because I fucking miss you. Either way sucks. I'm still hurting, really badly. I don't know what to do. I'm sorry._

Okay, so maybe I got a little too emotional when I sent that text. But I think I had a right to. Rukia told me to tell the truth, so I did. Not wanting to dwell on the fact that I had just sent my ex an over-emotionally-loaded message, I stole back the joint and glared half-heartedly at the small woman sat opposite me.

"Happy now?"

* * *

><p><em>February 1st, 2010 <em>

_19:03 - So I got your voicemail. What is your problem, Ichigo? Is this an issue that can be sorted via txt or do I need to call you? I can come over later if you want to talk about this. I'll be back in town around 5._

_19:05 - Yeah I was pissed off because I found out the girl you're seeing is only eighteen, but I'm mostly over it now. None of my business really._

_19:13 - Did I not tell you? Yeah she's 18. Why does it matter? I didn't lie to you on purpose._

_19:14 - Yeah, thanks for that. It's gross, by the way._

_19:20 - Sorry it's pissed you off. But why not wait to talk to me about it?_

_19:22 - Because I was angry. I'm not sure if I want to talk to you right now. I'm not sure of my opinion of you right now._

_19:43 - Fine. I thought you knew about her, but what were you thinking trying to stick your nose in? Were you expecting something good? I've avoided anything like that bc I know I wouldn't cope with it, I don't even think about it & I feel almost guilty when I'm around Inoue bc I know how much it'd hurt me to see you in the same situation._

_20:01 - I just wanted to know what she was like and oh would you look at that she still has puppy fat and would look like fifteen at most if she didn't have giant knockers. It doesn't bother me that you're seeing someone new, we have to move on somehow. I'm fucking trying my best to. Feel free to ask around about Renji, I don't feel guilty about trying to move on and you shouldn't be with her if you fucking feel guilty about it. How the fuck do you think she'd feel about that if she knew? The thing that bothers me is that she is barely an adult and you are twenty-seven this year. What are you even doing? Are you fucking serious?_

_20:29 - I have no answers to your questions. Whichever way you look at it, yeah I'm a bad person. I'm just trying to move on & stop thinking about you so much. Inoue's great, as I'm sure Renji is. She's very different to you, as I'm sure Renji is to me, I'm guessing. This really isn't going anywhere so I'm just gonna go. Sorry for txting you._

_21:05 - Hope you're OK Ichigo. I know I shouldn't not txt when you're upset and angry bc as you've always said, that's the opposite of what you want. I didn't mean to piss you off._

_21:07 - Stop fucking with me Grimmjow! You can't suddenly start listening to what I want now we're not together. Don't suddenly start being emotionally open now. You cant do this!_

_21:15 - I'm not fucking with you. I want to make sure you're OK & learn from my mistakes & unbelievably, not be an asshole. If I'm making things worse just tell me & I'll leave you alone. It's just… I really don't want things to be bad between us, I don't want you to hate me, I don't want you to think badly of me._

_21:59 - Well I do think badly of you. I'm sorry, I don't want to, but you're fucking seeing an eighteen year old girl! It's sick! I could understand if you were seeing a guy, or someone who wasn't so fucking young, but it makes my stomach turn. It doesn't matter how lovely she is, two years ago she was wearing a fucking school uniform and in three years you're going to be thirty! I'm not trying to be horrible but honestly, it's making me question who you are, if I even fucking know you. I know it's none of my business any more but it's still affecting me. And with the way you talk about it, it seems like you're not even happy in the situation! I just don't. Fucking. Get it. Did you just go along with it for the sake of it or what? Cause that's really not fair on her. She's eighteen, she doesn't have a fucking clue about guys or relationships. Or is that the appeal? And I know I'm being a fucking cunt now but I can't help it because I haven't hurt this fucking much since we started seeing each other. I don't hate you and I don't want things to be bad between us either, but I don't know how to process this information. I want to fucking die and get it over with._

* * *

><p>Rukia's phone started blaring with an unidentifiable angry screamo song, and we both turned our heads to regard it dazedly. I was in a rather nice, hazy, not-really-caring-about-anything mood, and as far as I could see, Rukia was much the same. She stared at the phone a few more moments before pressing to answer and lifting it to her ear.<p>

"Yo… Nii-sama? Uh, yeah… I mean, yes. No, of course I didn't forget. That is proper grammar! It is! Yes, I'll be ready shortly. Yes, I will be wearing clothes this time. Yes... Yes... Goodbye, Nii-sama."

I gazed at her amusedly as she stared at her phone again, a slight frown marring her brow and her cheeks tinged with the slightest pink.

"What did his Highness want?"

"I have to go to a family meal… Which I completely forgot about."

I sniggered. I still couldn't believe that Rukia came from such a prestigious family. _Well, __she __doesn__'__t __really. __She __just __got __adopted __into __it. _I looked over her slightly panicked, but mostly slack, face. I felt kind of bad for her, I knew they all looked down on her because of her upbringing, her appearance, her demeanour. They saw her as unintelligent, uncultured, uncouth - just because she wasn't born with a silver spoon in her mouth, or as in their case, shoved up her arse.

I'd met them once, had been subjected to their glares, but I didn't have to put up with hours of their jibes at special family occasions. However, I found that most of me didn't pity Rukia at all - because I knew that she was thousands of times better than any of them. She had experience and wisdom beyond her twenty years on this earth. She was strong, fierce, with an attitude to match, and she couldn't be more perfect in my eyes.

"What time you gotta be there? Occasion?"

"He's picking me up in twenty. Great Aunt's millionth birthday. We have an emergency situation, Ichigo. Help me raid my wardrobe. I need to see if I own anything below the knee."

Fifteen minutes later, Rukia stood before me in a dark grey, jersey, short-sleeved maxi-dress that held only a few barely-noticeable holes. The length hid the most formal shoes she owned - black, hi-top Converse - and her leather jacket was around her shoulders, open at the front. Her hair was straightened and down, hiding her tunnels and various other piercings. On my suggestion she wore bold red lipstick and no eye make-up. We were both hoping, for her sake, that it would draw any family members' attentions away from her expansive pupils.

"How do I look?"

"High as fuck, but gorgeous. We make quite the emergency team, as always."

I offered her a small smile and she reciprocated the gesture before shaking herself and letting out a quivering breath.

"Okay, he'll be here soon. You going to stick around?"

I walked up to her and wrapped an arm around her waist in a half-hug.

"You'll be fine, baby. Yeah I'll stay here if that's cool, gimme your keys incase I wanna go buy beer. I'll be up when you get back."

She rummaged around in the bag that sat on the kitchen counter before throwing the found keys at me. A car horn sounded from somewhere outside and Rukia made her way to the door. I could hear her mumbling about how she could really do with one more cigarette. She turned around just before she reached the door, sending me a pleading glance. I walked up to her, turned her back to face the exit, and opened it for her. With a quick slap on the arse I sent her on her way.

"Good luck! Oh, and try not to storm off this time, it's really not ladylike!"

She turned to glare at me and I winked before closing the door. It wouldn't do her any good to be seen entertaining orange-headed gay-bos with a penchant for drugs and alcohol. I leaned my back against the cold wood of the door and sighed.

I had some serious thinking to do.

I walked back into the kitchen and grabbed the black hoody I had picked up from my family's place earlier. Shrugging it on, I picked up my wallet from where it still lay on the floor, along with my cigarettes and Rukia's lighter. Shoving the items in my pockets, I headed out of the door. I turned the key in the lock before turning around and studying the night sky. There were a few stars out, but thick, smoke-like clouds swirled around the moon, making it look both ominous and breath-taking.

I pushed a cigarette between my lips and lit it. Shivering, I pulled up the zipper on my hoody a little and began to walk. I'd head to the shop nearby, pick up a crate, go back to Rukia's and wait for her return. She'd be sure to have some stories from the evening, and I knew they would be entertaining. _Well, __for __me._ First, though… I would take a walk around the park and try to clear my head. I needed to work out what I should do.

Five minutes later I had got bored of walking and had ended up sitting on a freezing cold bench, my feet up on the edge of the seat and my hands on my knees, nursing another cigarette. I had to think - something I had intentionally avoided for weeks.

_Think, __Ichigo_…

My phone buzzed angrily in my pocket and I jumped. Looking around slightly to make sure no one was there to have witnessed it, I flipped open the cover and was greeted with a new message notification. Taking a deep breath, I opened it.

_Don't be sorry, it's totally fine & understandable. I'm willing to do whatever will make you happy but tbh I really don't like not talking to you. I don't like not having you in my life. But if that's what it takes for you to feel better then OK. Would you be willing to meet up & talk about things 1 day? I don't want to rush things so let me know when you're ready._

Why was he being so… _Nice?_

It was then that I remembered that, although I liked to talk about him like he was the biggest asshole on earth, Grimmjow was actually a pretty decent person. Yeah he was arrogant, nihilistic and had a foul temper… But he had morals. Okay, so they may not have been the same as everyone else's morals, but they were there. He went by his own code, and when he made a decision, he stuck to it. He was also fiercely protective over things he wanted, and would happily get himself into trouble defending you if he felt you were being wronged…

_Oh Christ. _

This might sound like a great realisation to you, but to me, it pretty much meant that I was fucked. I needed to think about the bad things about him, remember why it didn't work… Where was the defiant "I-like-being-single" Ichigo that had emerged after the break up?

_Okay, bad things…_

He used to lie to me. Quite a lot, actually. That was probably one of the biggest factors for me in why it didn't work. If he thought something was going to annoy me or upset me, he would either not tell me or lie about it. Even over the stupidest little things. Like when he got a haircut, he wouldn't tell me, because I liked his hair a little longer.

When he would go on a night out with work people or whatever, he wouldn't tell me who with, or would leave certain people out when he talked about it. Occasionally he would lie about where he had been, too, and when I found out from other people and confronted him about it, his response would always be the same.

"_I __didn__'__t __want __you __to __get __pissed __at __me.__"_

I sighed as I remembered my automated response that he _never __fucking __listened __to._

"_It makes me angrier that you lied about it. If you'd told me the truth, I wouldn't have cared!"_

And so an argument would ensue. I sighed to myself again as I realised that I didn't really care about that stuff anymore. I was starting to think that I would honestly put up with the lies if it meant I could be with him. I hung my head. _I__'__m __starting __to __sound __like __a __victim __of __abuse. _But right then, I would have given anything to go back to how things were. Even if they weren't perfect, even if they were difficult. I chastised myself for giving up on it for what felt like the millionth time.

_But you weren't happy._

That was true enough, but I knew now that it wasn't always because of Grimmjow. I, like many people from my generation, have always suffered from depression. When I get like that… I get so wrapped up in myself, I can't see anything around me. I barely function as a person. Grimmjow couldn't deal with it. He wanted to help, and when I told him he couldn't, he would get angry. Angry at me. Which then made me feel a hundred times worse and the whole fucking circle would start again.

With hindsight, I could see that he was just frustrated. He probably felt like it was because of him that I wasn't getting any happier, no matter how many times I told him that he was the only thing that made me smile. The only problem with him having those thoughts is that Grimmjow was never any good at dealing with emotion, other than anger. He would never have told me those things, even under torture. _He__'__d __probably __just __punch __me __in __the __face __instead._

Weirdly enough, it had been Ishida who had helped me come to that conclusion.

* * *

><p><em>27th February 2010, 23:00<em>

_It had been one of the rare nights that they managed to go out, just the two of them, and not end up in a slanging match. They sat opposite each other in a pub, far too many empty pint glasses surrounding them. There was a small tinge of pink on the pale cheeks of the dark-haired man, and his head was slumped down to rest on the crook of his arm. Ichigo enjoyed seeing Ishida like this, and not the stuck-up prick he normally was. It made him seem more human._

"_Kurosaki."_

"_Hnn?"_

"_I really miss her, you know."_

"_I know."_

_Yeah, this was during the peak of "I-miss-Rukia-why-won't-she-come-back-to-me-I-love-her" time of joy. Ichigo had already had to listen to that sentence at least a million times that evening and was about to tell him to shut up before the dark-haired male said something that sparked his attention - and anger._

"_I really thought I could help her."_

"_Ishida… Are you seriously trying to tell me that you are a fixer-upper?"_

"_Serial."_

_Ichigo laughed at the unexpected use of vernacular that had spurted from Ishida's mouth. The other man hadn't seemed to notice, though. Ichigo quieted and polished off another pint, letting him continue._

"_I can't help it. Even if I know I can't help someone, if I know that they are in pain… I can't help myself. I want to make them better."_

"_And what happens when you can't?"_

"_I keep trying."_

_Ichigo took a deep breath and tried to think of how to word what he wanted to say. That failing, he opted for his trusted blurt-it-all-out-and-hope-they-understand-you approach._

"_You know… Rukia… She's never going to 'get better'. What she suffers from is a chemical imbalance. It's not like regular depression where you can talk to someone and 'Wow! Would you look at that, I feel all better.' She has to rely on pills, and that's a pretty fucking difficult thing to cope with. You should know all about Manic Depression, your Dad's a fucking doctor."_

"_You know I do not associate with Ryuuken."_

Okay, touchy subject.

"_Look, Kurosaki. This is not something we are going to agree on, because we are both on opposite sides of the spectrum. I realise I had a sheltered upbringing in comparison to yourself and Rukia, and I do not know what it is exactly that you two feel when you get how you do, but… You do not know either, how I feel when I watch her get like that."_

_It wasn't until that moment that Ichigo realised just how much Rukia had meant to the bespectacled man before him. It was kind of a shame that it never would have worked. Everyone knew that - apart from Ishida, it would seem. Ichigo could only nod sombrely and stare into his empty pint glass, willing it to magically fill._

"_You know what, Kurosaki? I feel like I must feel about Rukia how Jaegerjaquez felt about you."_

_Well that got Ichigo's attention pretty fucking quickly. Amber eyes narrowed instantly._

"_What?"_

"_Think about it. If I'm the opposite of you and Rukia… Then I am in the same position as he was."_

_Ichigo could only regard Ishida with a barely repressed glare, almost daring him to continue. He shifted his glasses up his nose before saying something that left Ichigo beyond confused._

"_I would do anything, even now, if I thought it would help her. I would take all of her pain, and hold it myself, if it meant she would even have five minutes of happiness. Even though I know she wouldn't want that, I would still do it."_

* * *

><p>I had started thinking about what Rukia had said earlier. In my mind, it was totally impossible but what <em>if<em>… What would I do if Grimmjow came up to me and said that he missed me, that he still wanted me? What would I say if he asked me to go back to him?

_Yes._

It was the first thought that popped into my head and I instantly tried to rationalise it away. _No, __I __would __not __say __yes._ It kind of shocked me really, the speed at which my mind had supplied me with that answer. I hadn't even considered it before. Going back, that is. Why would I say yes? We didn't work out, and we tried for three long years.

It had been almost six months since we broke up, why would I suddenly want to get back with him? Sure, we had some good times - great times if I'm honest. Sure, when I was happy with him, it was the happiest I had ever been. Sure, we had built a home together, developed a kind of routine, a family of two people...

_Stupid mind giving me ideas._

But it could never be the same. I suddenly felt a lot colder, and I knew it wasn't from the freezing metal of the bench. I pulled my knees closer to me and wrapped my arms around them. The only place I had ever considered home was the small one-bed flat that I used to share with Grimmjow.

I love my family, don't get me wrong, but I never really felt that I fitted in in that house. My dad is bat-shit crazy, you see, and my sisters are a lot younger, so no matter how much I love them, I can't hold conversations with my family about anything other than the mundane stuff - work, the weather, the news. You get the idea. It was really kind of lonely.

I remember the day Grimmjow got the keys to the flat. I had volunteered to clean the place up a bit whilst he moved all of his things back and forth in cardboard boxes and bin bags - when you have a sister like Yuzu, enjoyment of cleaning is pretty much forced down your throat - and I was quite looking forward to the challenge.

The place wasn't filthy, but no one had lived there for a year, so dust would be an understatement. It was late evening by the time I had finished cleaning every inch of the place. I had found Grimmjow sitting cross-legged in the middle of the living room floor, surrounded by cardboard boxes that he was rummaging through.

"_You staying here tonight, yeah?"_

I had simply nodded, although I knew he couldn't see me, and extended my hand. He had looked up at me quizzically with those fucking beautiful eyes of his.

"_If I'm gonna stay here we should probably set up your bed. Gimme your keys, I'll start bringing stuff in."_

Half an hour later, I stood proudly in the bedroom doorway, hands on my hips, regarding our handiwork. Somehow, we had managed to make Grimmjow's double bed fit in the barely-double room. I had turned my head to smile at him, and he had grinned back - that maniacal, almost feral grin that told me what was coming next.

"_We'd better test it out." _

He had moved closer to me, his large hands covering my now-slack ones on my hips, his breath in my ear.

"_Gotta make sure we set it up right, don't we?"_

I would think it inappropriate for me to tell you how many times the bed was christened that night. But right at the end, before I had fallen into the coaxing arms of sleep, I had felt Grimmjow shift above me. I felt his strong fingers stroke my cheek and I had cracked my eyes open to see his face as it neared my own, his hot lips against mine. His thumb stroked my bottom lip and his weight settled on me again.

"_Move in with me."_

* * *

><p>I smiled at the thought, even though it stung at my heart. Things couldn't go back to how they were. I couldn't go back to living in that flat. It held too many memories of when we were together. Weirdly, it was the happiest memories that haunted me the most.<p>

Memories of curling up on the sofa and watching No Reservations, one of Grimmjow's guilty pleasures, then getting so hungry we had to run to the supermarket and buy a shitload of food. Of playing NHL on the xbox and screaming at the television. Of play-fighting that would always end in the bedroom. Once I started thinking about those things, all the arguing and fighting and silence seemed irrelevant.

I sighed heavily and rubbed my eyes, before fishing out another cigarette. Sure, when I thought about those things, my heart ached and I longed for them. For _him_. But I didn't really know how I felt about him at that current point in time - if I hated him, or liked him, or loved him in the same way I had done.

I had been living the last few weeks in a kind of limbo - pretending he didn't exist, but hearing about him. Working and doing day-to-day things, but not living. Drinking and smoking and popping pills that would numb my body and heart and leave me unfeeling.

I knew I had to change things, to escape the in-between of love and hate, of the lust for life and the longing for death. If I saw him again, would I know? If I heard his voice in my ears, saw him with my own eyes, would the answer suddenly be revealed to me?

_It's worth a shot._

I unlocked my phone and stared at the message a little longer. I could do this.

_I don't know. Maybe we should meet up and talk._

Flipping my phone closed I stood up from the bench slowly, feeling the strain on my shivering muscles as I stretched. Thinking of Rukia's hopefully imminent return, I started to walk towards the nearest supplier of booze. I had another day off tomorrow - all the more reason to get wasted. I didn't want to think about how I might be seeing Grimmjow in the all-too-near future.

I was almost back at Rukia's, one hand holding a cigarette, the opposite arm hooked around a crate of Germany's finest lager, when I felt my phone vibrate. My body tingled with what had become a familiar nervousness, and I held my cigarette between my lips as I flipped the cover.

_You should come into Espada on your way to work 1 day. Like I said there's no rush, so let me know._

Good lord, that man was an idiot. _Why __on __earth __would __I-_ I sighed and shoved my phone back into my pocket, grabbing the keys to Rukia's flat and shoving them in the door. I threw it open and kicked it shut after me, walked into the kitchen and popped open a can before regarding the message again.

Espada was the name of Grimmjow's new place of work. He used to work for corporate coffee chain Arrancar, and it was there that he had been approached and asked to manage the independent coffeehouse-by-day, bar-by-night. It was doing really well, apparently, despite having only been open a week or so. I didn't really care.

The only thing I cared about was that it was on my shortest route to work, so if I was running late - and I was _always_running late - I had to walk past it. I don't know why it made me so nervous. I would walk straight past it, my head held high, trying to look like I didn't even notice there was a brand new shiny building right next to me. Then, once I had passed it by a good distance, I had to stop and draw in long, shaky breaths.

Why on earth would I want to go into a building that I couldn't even walk past without it fucking me up? How could I just stroll casually into what was effectively Grimmjow's territory, where all of his friends worked, and be like "Hey, you know what, I don't know how I feel about you! Half of me wants you to disappear, and the other half wants us to get back together! I'll take a latte, please."

_Uh, no._

I typed a quick, emotional response. Tell him the truth, she said.

_I can't go in there. Not yet. It' s hard enough walking past on my way to work. If I do meet you I want it to be somewhere neutral. Not there or Arrancar or the flat or mine._

I was casually chugging the remainder of my can when the door slammed open.

"I cannot BELIEVE that man!"

I turned to regard the small woman who had entered the flat, her breathing harsh, trying to pull her arms free from their leather confines. I offered her a smirk and a can. She took the beer and popped it angrily, forcing half of it down her throat in one go and wiping her mouth with her hand messily afterwards. I placed a cigarette near her face and she hungrily wrapped her lips around it. As I lit it she inhaled, sighing out the smoke and finally dropping to sit on the floor.

"What's Byakuya done now?"

I joined her on the floor as she took a deep breath, opened her mouth, and began to regale the stories from the evening.

By the end of the night I had laughed so much I had cried - managing even to get a giggle or two out of Rukia - and arranged to meet Grimmjow. We were in bed - Rukia curled up against my chest, her breathing slow and her body twitching against mine as she fell further into sleep - but my eyes stayed open, two words persistently swirling around my brain.

_One week._

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: And so the drama begins... Oho~_**


	3. Let's Go To Bed

**Chapter Two: Let's Go To Bed**

_All of this then back again,_

_Another girl, another name._

_Stay alive but stay the same_

_It's just the same,_

_A stupid game._

_But I don't care if you don't_

_And I don't feel if you don't_

_And I don't want it if you don't_

_And I won't say it_

_If you won't say it first._

_-Let's Go To Bed, The Cure_

* * *

><p><em>The party had been going on for a fair few hours, and Ichigo wanted nothing more than to leave. It was supposed to be fun - drinks with friends in the large grounds belonging to Rukia's brother - but something just had to come along and ruin it.<em>

She_ was here._

_Ichigo was currently lying spread-eagle, his back slightly damp from the grass, a small slope allowing him to still see his surroundings. He had been watching. Rukia was sat next to him, although Ichigo couldn't focus on her face._

_He must have drank too much…_

_It's okay, though. He knew it was Rukia - not only from the woman's dainty presence, but from the small sense of security the other figure was giving him. But man, was that other girl pissing him off. She hadn't done anything - other than stare at Ichigo when she thought he wasn't looking - but just her being there was enough to irritate the orange-haired man._

_Ichigo had managed to contain his anger, though, even if it was only his rival's gender that had determined that. Instead of storming up to the little group and stomping her face in - as he would have done had she been male - he had settled for simply regarding them from the corner of his eye, counting how many times the stupid bint felt the need to stare at him._

_Oh, and drinking. There had been a lot of drinking._

_Ichigo turned to Rukia, intent on asking her if she wanted another beer, when he saw it. That shock of blue. Words forgotten on the tip of his tongue, Ichigo's eyes flew to it and focused._

He_ was here too._

Shit_._

_Blue eyes, which had been roaming the grounds, focused on Ichigo's and the young man almost choked on air. Ichigo noticed the other man's eyes flicker quickly to the chattering girls sat all too close to them, and instantly knew the group with which the older man would be sitting._

Double shit.

_He quickly looked away, swallowing thickly. Now, not only did Ichigo have to watch his rival laughing and having fun at a party that she shouldn't even be at, but he also had to suffer seeing them together. His ex - the love of his life - and that barely legal little girl._

_He was stirred out of his reverie by a gruff voice calling his name. His head shot up, eyes wide, to meet the face to which the voice belonged._

_"How are you?"_

_Ichigo's eyes instantly narrowed and a quick reply formed in his head._

I'd be fine, if it wasn't for you.

_Managing to stop the sentence before it spilled from his mouth, Ichigo simply continued to glare. The older man sighed, pushing a large hand through unruly blue locks, before walking off, throwing an 'I'll see you around, Ichi.' over his shoulder. Ichigo watched, eyes still narrowed in confusion, as the other man walked past his girlfriend's group and disappeared into a crowd._

That was weird.

_Shaking his head, Ichigo stood, intent on finding more alcohol. He brushed his jeans and tugged his tee shirt down a little before moving forward. He sighed heavily when he realised the laces to his dark blue Converse were undone, and bent down to tie them. He was just about to start moving again when he felt someone standing over him. He looked up, scowl already intact, his lips curling into a disgusted sneer as he realised who exactly had decided to approach him._

_"What are you doing here?"_

_Okay, so Ichigo hadn't expected that at all. He stood to his full height which, although wasn't all that tall for a guy, still towered threateningly over the small female form before him. He intensified his glare and was happy to see the girl back slightly away from him._

_"Che. Surely I should be asking you that. In case you'd forgotten, you're currently sat in my friends' grounds."_

_"We were invited, thank you very much."_

_Ichigo snorted at that, not believing a word._

_"Anyway… I wanted to ask you something."_

_Grey eyes bored into amber, and Ichigo simply glared back, daring the small woman to continue. However, she seemed to lose her nerve a little, her gaze falling and roaming across the grounds._

_"Spit it out, then, _Inoue_."_

_The young woman jumped slightly as she was brought back to the situation, seeming as though she had temporarily forgotten what she was doing. She settled a disconcerted gaze on Ichigo._

_"What did you do to Grimmjow-kun?"_

_Ichigo couldn't help himself. He burst into laughter, the beer that already sat in his system helping his mirth no end. He looked at the girl and, through his laughter, managed to splutter out the words he wanted to._

_"What did I _do_ to him?"_

_More laughter. Why was this so hilarious?_

_"Are you fucking kidding me?"_

_He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye and tried to stop laughing, failing when he saw the look of complete seriousness on her face. She looked thoroughly pissed. This pleased Ichigo. He felt the people around them shift, their eyes landing on him, and for some reason he felt thrilled at the prospect of having an audience._

_"What's wrong, Inoue? Feeling insecure?"_

_Ichigo didn't feel like himself. His anger was taking over him, wracking his frame with adrenaline and getting him ready to fight, when he knew he should be turning around and walking away. But he _hated_ this girl. He had honestly never felt such animosity towards anyone, and yet this tiny girl riled him up in every single way. He wanted to lash out - punch, kick, throttle, scream, howl - he wanted to reek havoc. Instead he stood there, trembling with anger, a million threats wanting to spill from his lips._

_Who had he become?_

_He looked back at the girl and noticed his breathing had picked up._

Calm down, Ichigo.

_She was looking at him with a disgusted expression, but her eyes betrayed her worry. She even looked a little - dare he say it - frightened? Ichigo's cockiness increased even further and he felt a smirk pull his lips past their usual restraints. What he didn't know was that he looked as deranged as his felt. He felt Rukia's presence behind him and put a hand up, not taking his eyes off the girl._

_"I'm fine, Rukia. It's this _little girl_ that has the problem."_

_"I am not-"_

_"Admit it!" Ichigo screamed._

_The other party guests began to gather around them, but Ichigo couldn't see any of their faces. He began to wonder if he'd taken something and somehow forgotten about it. Something was not quite right about this situation. He didn't want to be here, he didn't want to be causing a scene, and he definitely didn't want this strangely familiar feeling of something taking over his body._

_"You're scared, right?"_

_Grey eyes widened and Ichigo let out a watery laugh that he didn't recognise as his own._

_"You're scared you can't have him how I had him. That he won't love you like he loved me… Let me tell you something, Inoue. You can never have what we had. He will _never_ love you like he loves me! YOU KNOW IT!"_

_Ichigo's breath was being dragged heavily from his lungs now, his chest heaving with the effort, the adrenaline pumping through his system and lighting him up like the stimulating drug he was so fond of once-upon-a-time. He felt his hands shaking and his lips tilting further than he thought possible._

_This feeling was so _nostalgic_._

_Ichigo could see the girl before him spitting out words that he could barely hear. The sound of his heartbeat almost drowned the screeching out. He was amused to see her so angry, comically large eyes wide, face flushed, tiny hands balled into fists and moving up and down as she told him how he was pathetic and he needed to get a life._

_"I'm pathetic? Ha! I tell you what, little girl, I don't know what he fucking sees in you. You're fucking _nothing_ compared to me. He must be fucking desperate if he's lowered his standards to _your_ level!"_

_"SO WHY ISN'T HE WITH YOU THEN?"_

_Those seven shouted words were enough to make Ichigo lose it. He let out a feral roar as he reared back, his fist raising along with his hackles. He lunged forward, heard the girl's scream, but did not feel her flesh underneath his knuckles. Instead he felt small, strong arms curling under his own and pulling him back, and struggled against the hold as he brought his eyes back up to glare at his target._

_Ichigo felt every single one of his muscles tense further along with what he was sure was a hook - tearing and tugging at his heart - as he took in the scene before him. The girl had been pulled out of the way by her elbow, and was currently curled up in the large chest of a teal-haired man._

_This was the worst day of Ichigo's life._

_Azure eyes were on Ichigo's. They were narrowed, confused and obviously angry - but there was something else there. Ichigo couldn't quite work it out, because it looked an awful lot like pain. But that couldn't be it, surely? Slowly, the man detached the small female from his front and lead her away, into the night and away from Ichigo's view._

_So he really had chosen her._

_Ichigo fell limp in Rukia's firm grip as consciousness left him._

_He awoke in his bed at his family's house. He sat up straight, wondering what had happened. Then he remembered._

_Grimmjow._

_He had chosen Inoue over him. Ichigo had been sure - so sure - that if there had ever arisen a situation in which the older man had to choose between the teenage girl and his ex-boyfriend, that he would choose the latter. Even though they were no longer together, they had so much _history_._

_But no. That hadn't happened. He'd chosen that little bitch, and Ichigo had been forgotten. What about him? What about the pain he was feeling? It was the other man's fault that he was like this._

Grimmjow should take responsibility.

_There was a faint tapping noise and Ichigo looked around his dark room, confused. Something clanged noisily and it was then that Ichigo realised the sound was coming from his window. He slowly rose from his bed and threw open his curtains. He pulled at the glass and scanned the darkness to see where it was coming from._

_"Oi!"_

_Amber eyes flew downwards to meet a dark figure directly underneath his window. It wasn't until the man lowered his hood that Ichigo sucked in a breath and backed away, shaking his head._

_This couldn't be happening._

_"You gonna let me in or have I gotta break an' enter?"_

_Ichigo closed his window and locked it before moving as quickly and quietly as he could downstairs. He softly unlocked the front door, and before he could open it all the way, the figure had pushed its way into his family home._

_"Wha-"_

_"We need to talk."_

_Oh god. This was it. He was going to tell Ichigo how disgusted he was with him, how he was happy with Inoue and never wanted to see Ichigo's scowling face again._

_Cold hands were on Ichigo's shoulders, and he was roughly steered back up to his bedroom. He was pushed to sit on his bed, and the figure shed his black hoody before sitting next to him, pushing a hand through flattened hair and rubbing the bridge of a straight nose._

_"Ichi… What the fuck was that about earlier?"_

_"I think you know the answer to that."_

_Why was he asking stupid questions? Why wasn't he just getting this over and done with? Ichigo heard the older man sigh._

_"Ichi, do you still… Still love me?"_

_"I think you know the answer to that."_

_What was this? What was he trying to do, was he trying to rub it in, make him hurt more? That just wasn't fair. Ichigo jumped as he felt a chilled hand wrap around his neck and another grasp his chin, forcing him to look at the older man. Ichigo gulped visibly and tried to stop the tears from welling - without much avail._

_Grimmjow really was beautiful._

_Why did things have to turn out like this?_

_"Ichigo. You know, Inoue, she-"_

_Ichigo shook his head from side to side roughly, trying to free himself from the cold grasp. He didn't want to hear it._

_"You need to listen to me, Ichi! Inoue means nothing to me!"_

What?

_Ichigo stilled instantly. Shocked amber eyes opened to search deep azure._

_"It's always been you, Ichigo."_

_The hand that had been around Ichigo's neck dropped to cover Ichigo's, cold fingers threading through the younger man's own._

_"Inoue and I are over, I just finished it. I… I'm so sorry Ichigo. I should never have left you, I-"_

_Ichigo could only sit there in shock as the older man choked slightly on his words - before covering it with a cough, of course. Glazed azure eyes looked back into Ichigo's and the grip on his hand tightened._

_"I love you."_

_Ichigo couldn't help it. His body shook as sobs wracked his frame, and he was instantly pulled into the comforting, nostalgic embrace of his ex-lover. He buried his face into the older man's neck and allowed himself, for the first time in months, to cry._

_He felt drops fall against his shoulder and pulled back slightly to get a look at the other man's face. The man wasn't making a sound, and would not have looked at all distressed had it not been for the almost invisible tear tracks running down his cheeks._

_Then lips were on his own. Ichigo was opening his mouth, trying to taste him, but nothing was registering. His vision was slipping. He couldn't hear anything. The only thing he could feel now were fingers threaded securely through his own._

_Ichigo opened his eyes to bright light streaming through his haphazardly closed curtains._

Fuck_._

_He felt his cheeks cold and damp, his pillow soaked._

Why had this happened again?

It had been so long.

It had felt so_ real._

_Ichigo moved to dry his eyes but stopped when he realised something. He looked down at his hands to see that they were firmly linked together, nail marks denting his knuckles. He pulled them apart, tried to breathe as reality hit him._

_Fresh tears came. All that Ichigo could do was bury his face in his hands and hope that the pain stopped soon enough for him to get up and face the day._

* * *

><p>Fuck, fuck, fuck.<p>

I had made it all of one foot out of work before I had to sit down. I slumped heavily on the wooden step outside of Urahara Shoten and put my head in my hands. Took deep breaths. Fuck, my hands just would not stop shaking. I clumsily snatched a cigarette out of my pack and lit it, caning half of it in less than a minute.

_Tonight's the night._

I had spent the first couple of days of the week trying to mentally prepare myself for this, think things through. Work out what it was that I wanted out of tonight - what I needed to achieve. How I would act. What I would say. What I would do afterwards.

Typically, that failed. I couldn't think about it, and yet I couldn't get it out of my mind. It was just _there_. Floating around the otherwise unoccupied area known as my brain. And so, for the remainder of the week, I had fallen back into the habit of popping pills that I knew calmed me down. Mainly, my good old friend Temazepam.

However, I hadn't taken any today. I had wanted to be able to function properly. But Christ, did I wish I had fucking necked a pack. I looked down at the burnt-out cigarette in my still-shaking hands. I didn't want him to see me like this, so weak. I didn't want to see him either, really. I wanted to run home and continue pretending he didn't exist.

_You need to get out of this limbo._

I shook myself and quickly stood up. Started walking. Took those deep breaths along with another cigarette from the packet. I'd told him I'd be waiting outside Espada, but as I approached the building I realised the entirety of the front was paned with glass. Fuck that, I wasn't going to stand around where all his friends could see me waiting like some stood-up chick.

I wondered if he'd told them he was meeting me. For some reason, I really doubted it.

I opted instead to sit on the steps of the closed building next the coffee house. I'd be able to spot him when he left, and I was out of the way of possibly prying eyes. If I was going to have a freak-out, I'd rather it was somewhere a little more private, thank you very much.

He was late. Or I was early, either way. I checked my phone and my heart rate picked up a little further. Soon, he would be leaving that building, and I would have to see him. Talk to him. Act as if I wasn't breaking further apart by the second.

What would it be like, seeing him again? Would I feel angry at him? I knew I had been, but now I wasn't so sure. Would I hate him? I doubted that. Would I-

"Hirako, you bastard! Go home, I've got plans!"

A gruff voice accompanied the slamming of a door.

I felt my spine stiffen and I tried not to start hyperventilating. Here it was, the moment of truth. I could hear one of his friends - Hirako Shinji if I remember correctly - whining about how he wanted to go for a drink and how the other man was a spoilsport. I had never really understood how those two functioned as friends, but they seemed to be able to tolerate one another reasonably well.

I wanted to stand up. Look at him.

But all I could do was stare at my shoes with wide eyes and hope that, somehow, I had gained the power to become invisible.

They were still arguing. The voices were coming closer.

"I told you I'm meeting Ichigo! Where the fuck is he, anyway?"

My heart was hammering against my chest.

_How will I feel how will I feel how will I feel-_

"Ah!"

My head shot up to see a piano-toothed grin and a slim finger pointing right at me.

"Found 'im, Grimm!"

The blonde's smug grin was wiped off his face as he was smacked round the back of the head by a large hand.

"I told you not to fuckin' call me that, asshole. Now go home, I'll see you in the morning."

I watched as the blonde flipped him the bird and stomped off, avoiding the gaze I could feel penetrating me. I took a deep breath and pushed myself up from where I sat, reaching for my cigarettes. One was lit and hanging from my mouth before I managed to raise my head to look at him. I instantly wish I hadn't.

_Oh yeah._

He looked the same, but different. As if, if you didn't know him very well, you wouldn't be able to tell this man from the one he was before. He was wearing grey skinny jeans that clung to long, muscular legs and a shirt I hadn't seen before - thin stripes of different blues over white - the top few buttons open, revealing his collar bone and the top of his ripped chest. The sleeves were rolled to just above the elbow, his biceps screaming for escape as his arms crossed over one another. My heart was thundering against my ribs.

_I remember._

His hair was styled as he usually had it - pushed away from his face in a wild fashion, a few stray hairs rebelling and hanging in his eyes. I noticed the longer trails at the back and my heart leapt to my throat. He licked his lips - an old habit of his that I had always loved - and I remembered how they looked as they said my name. Eventually I met his gaze, and that's when I started to have trouble swallowing. Those shockingly beautiful blue eyes. I couldn't look away.

_I love him._

"Yo."

He spoke softly, as if he was dealing with a scared animal.

"Hey."

I managed to croak out. I realised I was still staring at him, and so I dragged my eyes back to my shoes.

"Kenpachi's?"

I simply nodded at the floor and followed him as he began to walk towards the local restaurant. I hadn't been there since we broke up, but I knew he had taken Inoue there. Some of my friends, including Rukia and Renji, had seen them there together sometime around the beginning of the year. It really stung to think about - Kenpachi's was our _old_ haunt, we even knew the staff quite well and used to get discount and everything. I started to rile with jealousy, before I realised that I was being asked a question.

"How's work been?"

So it looked as if he wanted to settle back into the routine we had adopted during our 'being friends' era - talking about work, occasionally family, but rarely anything deeper. That wasn't what I came for. I refused to answer with the 'yeah, okay' response I knew he expected. Fuck that, I was going to be honest. What was the point in me even seeing him if we weren't going to talk about anything important?

"Well I've been skipping out a lot to get fucked up with Rukia, so not so great. Luckily Urahara hasn't seemed to notice that I've either been on a massive come down or still blitzed whilst I attend his prestigious business."

I looked over to gauge his reaction. He was staring straight ahead as he continued walking. He nodded once and his blue eyes darted quickly over my body before returning to my face.

"That why you look like a fuckin' stick man?"

"I've lost three stone."

"Christ, Ichi."

The voice was nostalgic - breathy, with a hint of anger. He sounded like he didn't want to hear it. I didn't care.

"You should really cut down on that shit and fuckin' eat. You remember food, right? That tasty stuff that you put in your mouth and it makes you not die?"

He was shaking his head now.

"Lucky we're going for a fuckin' meal… Wait. You're not back on the c-"

"No."

I quickly cut him off. I knew what he was thinking. He simply nodded in response, refused to meet my eyes.

We had returned to silence by the time we reached the restaurant. He held the door open for me and I stood awkwardly, arms crossed, as we waited to be seated.

"Ah, Grimmjow! Nice to see you again! And who do we have he- _Ichigo?_"

I smiled as convincingly as I could as I was stared down by the flamboyant man in front of me. I could feel those lavender eyes invading my brain and tried to think sane thoughts, just in case he could hear them.

"Yumichika, you got any booths free?"

The man started slightly before removing his eyes from mine and scanning the papers he had held on a clipboard.

"Certainly. This way…"

He floated off and I reluctantly followed him. I had really hoped Yumichika wouldn't be working tonight - he was a renowned gossip, and I could already see the glitter of a found gem in his eye as he sat us down and handed us our menus, eventually floating off to take someone else's order.

Well, isn't this fun.

I was beginning to feel really awkward. Why had we come here? Oh god-

"You having your usual?"

I felt my eyes widen and I couldn't help but gawk at the man sat opposite me. My heart rate, which had begun to slow, picked up once again.

"You still know what that is?"

"'Course I do. We havin' beer?"

I could only nod and watch in silence as he motioned Yumichika back over and recited our usual orders perfectly. I've always had a habit of finding foods I like and sticking with them, so I know I shouldn't have been surprised that he remembered. Being in such a familiar situation, but everything being different, was just a shock to my system.

We actually managed to have a brief flow of conversation. He was telling me about his new job and I was adding in occasional stories from Urahara's, mainly about the strange customers that frequented the store. He had just finished telling me about one of the regulars at Espada - a really timid, bland girl who he suspected to have a darker side - when it happened.

"Speaking of bland girls, how is Inoue?"

_Whoops_.

What can I say? The words just slipped out. We had to talk about it sometime. I couldn't hide the smug look on my face if I tried, even if the mention of her name was eating away at my insides. But then, a miracle happened.

Grimmjow smirked.

But before I could consider why he would be amused by the fact that I had just described his girlfriend as boring, he actually answered the question.

"Not great."

My heart leapt with hope. Perhaps they had broken up?

"She's been ill, so I haven't seen her for a while. She actually collapsed at work the other day."

My hopes would have been shattered, had it not been for that tiny glimmer in the form of the tilt of his lips.

"Did she die?"

"No, Ichigo. She didn't die."

"Oh... Did she hurt herself?"

He was chuckling softly now, his head moving side to side, his eyes glimmering with something I didn't understand. The chuckling subsided and so we fell back into silence. I noticed he wasn't reciprocating the gesture - he wasn't asking about Renji.

I wanted him to ask. I wanted him to have the same sick curiosity as me. I wanted to tell him that I wasn't with Renji any more, that I was single. Available. But he just sat there, watching me with an unreadable gaze.

I didn't understand anything any more.

* * *

><p>"So, you wanna tell me what you're thinking about?"<p>

I let out a gush of air and continued to scowl at the ground. Having finished our meals, Grimmjow had suggested we go for a walk and discuss things. We had spent the last five minutes strolling in an increasingly tense silence, and I had spent every second of it panicking about what I should say.

"I don't fucking know, Grimmjow. You're the one who wanted to meet up in the first place, you tell me."

The silence continued. I sighed, wondering aloud.

"Why did you even want to see me? It doesn't look like we're getting anywh-"

"I miss you."

_What_.

I stopped in my tracks. Did I hear that right? I raised my eyes to look at him. He had also stopped, a little way ahead of me, and was glaring at the floor. His eyes slowly raised to meet mine.

"I miss you, Ichi. That's why I wanted to see you."

I was having difficulty breathing. I couldn't do this, I just couldn't, it was too cruel. How could he give me so much false hope? The only thing I had been able to focus on since seeing him again was how I loved him, I fucking _loved_ him, and he only wanted me as a friend. In all honesty, I didn't think I could give him that. I had spent so long worrying over how I would feel about him, only to have my worst fears confirmed.

_This is the fucking worst I have ever felt._

I wanted to run, and goddamn it I was just about to turn tail and run the fuck away when there was suddenly a hand squeezing my shoulder.

"Ichi?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying my hardest to regain a normal breathing pattern. I was shaking, I realised.

"Ichi, let's go back to the flat. It's fuckin' cold out."

I could only nod softly as my body filled with dread at the thought of returning to our old home. I had been back there since we broke up, of course I had. But every time I went back there, something had changed. It only served to remind me that the flat was no longer my home. I could never go back there to live, but I could visit, like a father denied full custody of his child.

The ironic thing was that most of my stuff was still there - albeit mostly sat in boxes. Not all of it, mind you. My favourite chopsticks still sat in the cutlery drawer. My favourite teacups still waited in the cupboards. Some of my clothes still hung in the wardrobe. My shampoo still stood half-empty in the shower. The canvasses I had painted still decorated the walls.

It was such a surreal situation.

Too quickly, we had arrived at the complex, and Grimmjow was holding open the door for me. As we descended the stairs to our - his - flat, I couldn't help but remember the occasional times we would return home at the same time. He would always chase me up the stairs, trying to grab my ass, and I would stomp and shout and usually fall trying to escape him. Even though it was painful, I still couldn't stop the small tilt that pulled the side of my mouth.

When we entered the flat I removed my shoes and moved into the living room, relieved to see that at least nothing further had changed. I slumped onto my side of the sofa, nerves still alight. Now that I was here again, certain things were bothering me more than usual. I wanted to ask him about it, but I didn't want to hear the answers.

Had she been here?

Had he invited her round? Had she asked to come over? Had she cooked him a meal? Had they cuddled up on the sofa, watching films?

Had she stayed the night?

I felt distinctly sick.

"Tea?"

I nodded at the voice that came from the small kitchen - located not too far away from where I sat - before realising that he probably couldn't see the action. I cleared my throat.

"Uh, yeah, please. I'll be on the balcony a sec, I need a smoke."

Without waiting for a reply, I padded across the living room and stepped barefoot out onto the small balcony, noting it was still mostly taken up by potted plants. Making sure the plastic chair was dry, I sat down heavily and put my head in my hands. Shaking myself, I lit up and gazed out into the night.

I needed to somehow get my feelings out. Unload them all onto him and let him deal with them. I just didn't think I could do it. How could I tell him that I felt like I couldn't move on? That it hurt to see that he was, and with a woman no less? It was so much easier said than done.

Either way, I had to try.

* * *

><p>Half an hour later, no words had been exchanged.<p>

I know, I suck.

We were sat side by side on the sofa, watching re-runs of one of our old favourite shows. I had finished my tea - made perfectly to specifications that Grimmjow had somehow remembered - and felt a little more relaxed. I curled my knees up to my chest and rested my heavy head against the other man's shoulder.

I know I shouldn't have done it.

I just needed to touch him.

In any case, it's not as though he complained. In fact he shifted, moving his arm to wrap around my shoulders, fingers playing with the hairs at the back of my neck. I had to stop myself from moaning - having my hair played with is a guilty pleasure of mine, and Grimmjow was always so good at it.

I closed my eyes as his strong fingers threaded further into my hair, beginning a practised combination of massaging, scratching and pulling that had me pushing against his hand. It felt so _good_ and I slowly started to relax further. Before long I had mindlessly put myself in a nostalgic position - my head still rested against his shoulder, but my legs were thrown over his and one of my arms draped across his stomach and around his waist, my hand making small circles on the fabric there.

He slowed his actions and it was only then that I realised what I had done. My heart was beating rapidly in my chest and my breathing picked up. _Oh God._ I looked up to study his face and swallowed heavily. His head was tilted to look down at me, his breath fanning against my face. I realised I was staring at his lips - so close and yet so far away - and had to drag my eyes to his. He gazed back at me for a while. I couldn't read his expression.

"You okay?"

His voice shattered the moment I had been having. I admonished myself - this was one-sided, and I had to remember that. No matter what I was feeling in this situation, he wasn't on the same page. His voice betrayed his nonchalance. He had a _girlfriend_, for Christ's sake. No matter how much I wanted him, he just saw me as a friend, now.

Should friends be doing this?

I shook the meddling thought from my mind and rested my head against his shoulder once more, nodding in response to his question and closing my eyes. He continued to fuss my hair and I couldn't help but tilt further towards him. I could feel his heat through the shirt I gripped, smell the cologne that I had bought him for his last birthday.

_Oh God, if he would just-_

I let out a shuddering breath as I craned my neck further upwards. I wanted him to kiss me. I _needed_ him to kiss me - to prove that I wasn't going crazy, that this wasn't all in my head. That this overbearing tension was real. My breathing was heavy and I wondered if he had noticed, if he could feel the thumping of my chest against his own.

His breath was closer, I was sure of it. It fanned lower, against my nose, and I felt the need to keep my eyes shut. What must have been his forehead fell lightly against my own, his nose coming down to lay with mine, his breath now hot against my lips. I pushed myself up slightly, silently begging him.

_Kiss me._

I opened my eyes a little to look at his lips, a mere centimetre or so away from mine. They had always been one of my favourite things about him. They were full, but not overly so and I remembered that they were soft, although I could not recall the feel of them against my own. I felt more than a little depressed when I realised I could no longer remember the way he tasted.

_Please!_

Bated breath, tremulous tension. Then, my silent plea was answered as those lips - those beautiful lips - moved slowly to meet mine. It was hesitant, but not unwilling, as if asking for permission. They left and returned, still so gentle, and I pushed myself further up and into him, my hand reaching for his neck. It was all so slow - was this real? His scent was suffocating me, I could almost taste him. _Almost_-

His tongue lapped at my lips and I opened them quickly to reciprocate the gesture. His lips were inexplicably soft under my tongue, and the faintest taste left me needing more. His mouth opened, taking my lower lip prisoner, and he bit down gently. I could do nothing but whimper. My heart felt so _full_.

His tongue was back, parting my lips, meeting no resistance. Then we were dancing the practised dance that I knew so well, deep down, but had temporarily forgotten. How could I have forgotten this, the way our tongues twined, lips bruised, teeth bit out? This pace, this languid exploration, this taste?

The faintest lingering of coffee, somehow mixed with the scent of the flat, accompanied by what can only be described as Grimmjow. I thought none of this at the time. There was but one lone thought clogging up the recesses of my mind, making me moan into his mouth.

_Grimmjow tasted like home._

I'm not sure how long the gentle exploration lasted. I was lost in thought, in memories that his taste triggered. Of our time spent together, of every day life, of the home we shared. I could feel myself welling up - not from distress, but melancholia. All of the little things I had pushed to the back of my mind were slowly resurfacing, and it was all I could do to let the tears fall, their salt mixing with our taste, until he backed away.

"I'm sorry."

I couldn't look at him and so I shut my eyes, allowed new tears to fall. I took a deep breath, exhaled. Asked him.

"Why?"

"We shouldn't have done that."

I knew I shouldn't have expected any less. Had I pushed him into it? Did he not want to kiss me? I would be lying if I said it didn't hurt, that I wasn't disappointed. But, at that moment, my exhaustion overwhelmed either of those emotions. I sighed heavily, slumped back against the sofa.

"Why not? I wanted to."

I felt his hand under my chin and I glanced up at him. He didn't look annoyed, like I thought he would. He didn't look confused at my admission. He just looked… Sad. His thumb reached up to brush my bottom lip, and I watched as he licked his.

Then he was leaning, leaning into me again. Part of me wanted to deny him, push him away, albeit a very small part. He was kissing me again, gentle licks and nips. Soft kisses along my jaw, to my ear. My forehead. My eyelids. His hands were either side of my face, feeling as though they were holding my head together, his forehead pressed against mine.

"I still love you, Ichi."

My heart jolted. His lips pressed quickly against mine.

"I never stopped loving you."

It was a whisper, more broken than I had ever heard him. My mind was racing with my heartbeat, and I wondered if both would finally leave me for good. But he'd said it, the words I thought I would never hear, and it was my duty to tell him the truth. Wasn't it?

"I love you too."

His lips were back on mine, more insistent this time. His hands grasped my wrists and I was pushed back, his large frame hovering over mine. Now _these_ were the kisses I missed. The harsh ones, the forceful ones, the ones with which Grimmjow took everything he wanted and gave nothing back but pleasure. I could feel heat rising to my face and neck, blood pooling to my groin. This wasn't going to end well.

Everything and nothing made sense in that moment. This was the man I had loved for years, the man to whom I had given my all, the man who plagued my dreams. The contact was practised and full of a strange, comforting nostalgia. But that comfort was plagued with fear. An emotion I had unwillingly grown to know so well.

I let out a moan as teeth grazed my neck, and all coherent thought was lost. One of his hands released a wrist in favour of gripping my hip and so I tugged on the long trails at the back of his head, egging him on to bite me, mark me. I heard him growl deep in his throat as those teeth sunk into muscle, his thumb into my hipbone, and I bucked up involuntarily. His mouth returned to mine, his tongue instantly forcing its way into my mouth, dominating what now barley resembled a kiss.

I moved my legs to hook over his, pulling him to me. Both of his hands now grasped my hips, and he pulled me up to meet him halfway as he ground his arousal into my own.

_Good lord._

He backed away again and I was left painting underneath him. I searched his face as he regarded me in much the same way - _now_ he looked confused. I reached for his hand, placing mine over it and offering him a small smile. I have no idea why I was trying to comfort him, but in the moment it felt like the right thing to do. He licked his lips.

"Stay tonight."

I was honestly shocked. Sure, we had just been making out - rather heatedly at that - but for me to stay the night? As in, stay? With him? In the same bed? He must have seen the surprise in my face.

"I mean, you don't have to… I, ah crap. We don't have to do anything. I'd understand if you don't want to stay, y'know...?"

Bless him. He was really trying. I, however, was already fighting a personal battle between my head and my heart.

"I don't know, Grimm... Let me think a minute."

_Okay, deep breaths._

My heart was burning from the prospect of sleeping in my old bed - _our_ old bed - next to Grimmjow. I remembered how, when we were living together, he would curl up behind me - one arm bent so that his hand was over my heart, one leg thrown between mine. It was very rare that I could sleep without being in that exact position. Usually, though, he would turn away after a while to face the other way. If I hadn't got to sleep by then, I'd roll over to watch his back rise and fall with his breathing.

I would do anything to feel that again, wouldn't I?

My head, however, was screaming at me to leave. Turn around, walk out, run away. This was the worst possible thing I could do right now. How long had I spent trying to get over him? And now what? I was just going to jump back into bed with him? There were reasons I broke up with him. I knew there were - I just couldn't remember them. Even if that hadn't been the case, wasn't this a little hasty?

But what if this was my last chance? I felt like a dead man being allowed one more day to walk the Earth. If this was the last chance, I was going to take it, and I would make the most of it. I knew it had probably been at least five minutes since either of us had spoken. He was still hovering above me, apparently deeply absorbed in staring at the buttons of my shirt. I cleared my throat and his eyes darted straight to mine.

"Yeah, okay. I'll stay."

For the first time that evening, Grimmjow smiled. As sappy as is sounds, it really did take my breath away.

As did the fact that Inoue's toothbrush was in his bathroom cabinet.

* * *

><p>I slammed open the bathroom door to see him leaning against the wall, waiting. I watched as his eyes widened. I was pissed off.<p>

"She's stayed here."

It wasn't a question. I watched as his eyes widened further. He actually looked scared, I wasn't sure what to make of it. Either way, I knew what was coming. A 'no she hasn't' or a 'don't be stupid.' A lie. He would lie about it, and I wouldn't be sure whether or not to believe him, and I'd fall into his trap again. He sighed.

"Yeah, she stayed here."

It was my turn to look shocked. But, the anger came right back.

"She's been in _my_ flat. She's slept in _my_ bed. With you."

"Yes."

Why wasn't he denying any of it? He wasn't even disputing my claimed ownership of this place, of him.

"I think I'm going to be sick."

"Ichi…"

I looked up at him, a growl forming in my throat as I tried to keep dinner down.

"I'm sorry."

All I could do was frown in response. I looked away from him. No words can describe how hurt, how angry, how confused I was at that moment. Why was he apologising? I was trying to keep calm, to take deep breaths, to avoid what felt like an inevitable panic attack. I moved to walk past him, distance myself from him a little, but he blocked my path with an arm, moved closer towards me.

"I'm really sorry, Ichi. Please, just… Look, I understand if you want to go. I can drive you home if you want."

He was being so kind, I couldn't stand it. I couldn't deal with knowing that Inoue had been in my flat, in my bed. As crazy as it sounds, even though Grimmjow and I were no longer together, I felt betrayed. Just like, when I had slept with Renji however-many-times, I had felt like I was _cheating_. How absurd is that? Just thinking about it all made me sick. The guilt. I moved towards him and he backed away slightly, giving me space.

"You wanna leave?"

"No, Grimm… I'm gonna stay."

Don't judge me, okay?

I moved to rest my forehead against his chest and took a few deep breaths. I knew I had to get past all of this somehow, this Inoue shit. Thinking about it wasn't going to change what had already happened and anyway, by the looks of things, she wouldn't be in the picture for much longer. I allowed myself to inhale Grimmjow's scent and tried to bury my face away.

"Get to bed then. I'll be in in a sec... Sorry if it's cold."

I slowly pushed open the bedroom door and was instantly struck by a nostalgic chill. It was something I always used to complain about, the fact that Grimmjow insisted on having the window wide open at all times. That was, until he had pulled out his old electric blanket and set it up on my side of the bed. Now, though, the cold was strangely comforting.

The room had been rearranged shortly after I had moved out. The bed had been moved to sit underneath the window, and the whole room just seemed to scream Grimmjow. It was weird because, even though I knew it had looked this way for months, I had expected to walk in and for it to look the same as it did when I lived here. Stripping down to my boxers, I moved to my side of the bed, curled up in the cold sheets.

_Oh God._

This feeling. This _comfort_. I had missed this bed. The one in my family's house was so small, so different, even if it was comfortable. Here, the large tog duvet that I had insisted Grimmjow buy wrapped around me, surrounding me with his smell, the smell of home. The pillows I had picked were still on my side of the bed, and for a short second I hoped to God that Inoue hadn't drooled all over them. Vom.

It was then that Grimmjow walked in, shirtless, scratching his head.

_Fuck me._

It's not like I could ever have forgotten what that body looked like, but holy shit it was beautiful. Bulging biceps, forearms roped with muscle. Pectorals that he had always been proud of. Abs you could wash clothes on, the only imperfection being a scar, the hideous guilt it created. He looked a little trimmer, I noticed, but he had always complained about the 'comfort weight' he had put on when he was with me, so I shouldn't have been surprised. I _was_ surprised, however, that I hadn't started salivating.

He knocked the light off and the room was plunged into darkness. I willed my eyes to adjust quicker so I could watch him strip himself of his jeans and crawl into bed next to me. My breathing had already started to pick up. This was it. I was in bed with Grimmjow. He had said nothing would happen, but God did I need him to touch me. But he was just there, faffing with his phone, setting alarms and such, not paying any attention to me. I wasn't going to let things feel this awkward.

I waited until he had finally settled to make the first move.

He shifted to face me and I closed the space between us. A hand on his warm chest, my head next to his on the pillow. I felt one of his large arms wrap around me, pulling me in even closer, so that our chests touched. I shivered at the heat of his skin against mine. I leaned in to kiss him and he responded slowly, although not as hesitantly as before. His lips wrapped around mine, tongue peeking out, mouth opening, an undemanding exploration of my mouth.

I wanted _more_.

I sucked his bottom lip into my mouth and bit down, causing him to growl and give in to the faster pace that I desired. It was as if something had snapped within him, because in mere moments one of his thighs was between mine and his kiss was so harsh I found myself pushed into the pillow and my lungs couldn't get enough oxygen. Then his teeth were on my neck, his hands everywhere, his arousal grinding into mine. Breathing was suddenly very difficult as gasp followed moan followed gasp. He had always complained about how loud I was in the bedroom, but could you really blame me when it was like _this_?

His thumbs were hooked in the waistband of my boxers.

_Oh God oh God oh God._

I felt his harsh breathing against my neck as I waited for him to continue. Oh _God_ did I need him to continue. His thumbs pressed against my hipbones as he pushed himself up to look at me and I grasped his forearms, looking back up at him pleadingly. I knew how debauched I must have looked, even in the darkness - flushed, chest heaving, cock straining harshly against the cloth of my boxers, begging for attention - I just hoped that it had the same effect on him as it used to.

"Fuck, Ichi."

All I could do was let out an unmanly whine as he traced the skin underneath my underwear with his index finger. His lower lip was clamped firmly between his teeth as he playfully snapped the band back against my stomach. Then the fabric was being pulled oh so slowly, oh so _teasingly_, down, allowing the cool air to reach my skin, but do nothing to soothe the burning I felt.

"Nn, Grimm… Hah..."

My boxers had been thrown God-knows-where, he had almost torn his own off in his sudden hurriedness, and a simultaneous groan was ripped from us as flesh met flesh. His mouth was on mine, his tongue demanding as he pushed me further into the mattress, grinding once, twice against me before finally wrapping one of his large hands around the both of us, tugging harshly.

I had to remove myself from the kiss to breathe. Panted hot breath into the cold room. Grasped at his shoulders and held on for dear life. Oh God it was too much, I needed him to keep going, keep touching me, but I feared if he didn't stop I may just well lose my mind. That cock, oh _God_ I had never loved a part of anyone's anatomy more. Hot and heavy, _huge_. I loved the fact that I had got him this hard, that I still had this affect on him, that I had made him lose control. That he was touching me again.

His teeth were biting at a nipple and I moaned loudly, my fingernails cutting into his back as his pace on our cocks quickened. I was so close, so fucking close, and I could only hope that he was too. As his hand worked fiercely, his tongue formed a wet trail up to my jaw, to my ear, before his teeth sunk fiercely into the flesh of my neck. His hand quickened and I bucked uncontrollably against him.

"Fuuu.. Ichi…"

It was rare for Grimmjow to be vocal during sex, and it never failed to turn me on. That broken cry of my name pushed me to a teetering point at the edge._ Don't stop. Oh God, don't stop touching me._ His mouth returned to mine for a fervent meeting of tongues before he left to growl in his throat. I opened my eyes, unaware of when I had closed them, and looked up at him. He was staring at me with such intensity, as though he hadn't taken his eyes off me this whole time, and as his fiery gaze bored into my soul and his wrist flicked around us, I felt that coil snap within me.

"Ah, Gri-Grimmjoww…!"

My orgasm wracked my frame and I couldn't help but cry out as I came over his hand and myself. I rode out the pleasure as his hand sped up and his forehead fell to rest on the mine, his eyes still on my own. He bit out at my lip once more and then cursed as with one final stroke he came, his seed joining and mixing with mine on my stomach, his hand still moving at a lazy pace around us both.

He finally removed his hand from our spent cocks and rolled to the side, breathing still uneven. He grabbed some tissues from his bedside table and passed them to me. We sat up, cleaned up in silence. I was still quite wobbly and just wanted to lie down, but I supposed that we were going to have to talk about this thing, whatever it was. I looked over to Grimmjow and caught him mid-yawn, stretching like a cat, pointed incisors gleaming.

"You gonna sleep or what, Ichi?"

He sounded tired, and I realised that it must have been pretty fucking late. I felt kind of bad for feeling so relieved. I was grateful for once, I realised, that he was avoiding the subject. I watched as he lay back down heavily and patted the empty space next to him.

"C'mere. Let's curl up."

I felt my heart pang a little at the phrase we had coined, but I pushed the feeling away, crawled over to Grimmjow. I settled myself by his side, my back facing but not quite touching him. I heard a faint sigh from behind me before I was grasped around my midriff and pulled against his warm chest. I could feel his slowing heartbeat against my back and I allowed myself to close my eyes.

His arm moved so that his hand was over my heart. He pushed me slightly forward, and one of his muscular thighs pressed between my legs. I reached up for his hand and placed my own over it, squeezing once. My body soon relaxed more than it had done in months - sleeping without this, without _him_, simply hadn't been the same. Lying like this, where I could feel all of him, just felt so right, even in such a situation. It should have been awkward and honest to God, I have no idea why it wasn't. It was just _nice_.

But no matter how drained I felt, both emotionally and physically, sleep would not come. I didn't really mind. I just wanted to bask in this moment, in this warmth, in the soft tickling of even breath against my neck, until the hours dwindled and the morning light stole him away from me once more. It really was like a dream - I couldn't quite tell if I was conscious or not. The only thing I could focus on was the feel of Grimmjow against me, and the barrage of thoughts that began to seep into my brain.

I knew I had always had a rose-tinted view of Grimmjow. That's what happens when you fall in love with someone, isn't it? You can take the good with the bad, or in my case, block the bad from your memory. Maybe even the good, too. Because sometimes, that's the most painful, right? I've always been good at denial. But there, in the darkness of the bedroom we used to share, I remembered. Little things, small flashbacks, glimpses of memories.

Memories of making love for hours and hours.

Memories of sleeping alone in this bed.

Memories of crying myself to sleep.

Fighting. Smashed glass. A scar.

_What am I doing?_

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: So, I felt guilty that I might not be able to update this month (NaNoWriMo guiz~) so I made rewriting this a priority. Hope you enjoyed it (and make sure to let me know if you did!) Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far, and to everyone who has just read this chapter. Much love to all of you._**


	4. The Cure

**_A/N: Hello everyone, I'm back~ Well, for a short update, in any case. I'm unfortunately going to be away for a while again, shit's going down in the fam. Thank you for all your lovely reviews, they have been much appreciated. Keep them coming? I need cheering up, and you guys never fail to put a smile on my face. _****_In any case, this is a slightly shorter chapter, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. _**

**_And so, let us journey into the past~ *sparkly flashback noises*_**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Chapter<em> <em>Three:<em> <em>The<em> <em>Cure<em>______**

_I know the world has been mean to you,_

_I've got a cure, hold tight._

_I know the world is not fair to you,_

_I've got a cure for its crimes._

_Oh, oh, when you say it_

_So, so, slowly to me_

_Oh, oh, well I keep going_

_No, no, I run while knowing_

_No, no, I know you need it_

_So, so, I need it too and_

_Oh, oh, I must keep going_

_So you must too._

_I've got the cure,_

_I've got the cure for you._

_- The Cure, Tegan and Sara._

* * *

><p><em>May 2nd 2006, 12:00<em>

"Welcome to Arrancar, what can I get for you today?"

Ichigo had been working at the new coffee chain, Arrancar, for just over two weeks. It was his first job and even though he only did a few hours over the weekends, he was enjoying it. He kept mostly to himself, kept his head down, but was praised for his hard work. He hadn't really made any friends - he found it difficult enough to smile at customers, never mind his co-workers - the other staff seemed to avoid him like the plague. Ichigo didn't care. He enjoyed it because it was a nice distraction from, well, life.

He could hear the high-pitched squealing of his manager, Neliel - _"Call me Nel, sweetie!"_ - as she rambled about how someone had finally come back and how she had missed them. Ichigo ignored it - she was always like this. He was pretty sure it wasn't normal for a woman her age to be that hyper but, surprisingly, it didn't irritate him. She was a good person, and had practically taken Ichigo under her wing since he had started at Arrancar.

"Oi, Nel. Get yer tits off of me, yeah?"

Ichigo's heart skipped a beat at the sound of the gruff voice and he involuntarily shuddered. What was that about? He wished a good afternoon to the departing customer and tried to casually look over his shoulder to the staff room, where the voice was coming from. As soon as his eyes reached the open door, however, they were met with a pair of shocking blue - staring right at him.

He scowled despite his quickening pulse, the slight weakening of his legs, the warmth rushing to his cheeks. The man was undeniably attractive. Unruly blue hair was pushed back from his face, shaved at the back and sides. His muscles were visible even through the shirt he was wearing. His piercing blue eyes were boring almost painfully into Ichigo's.

_No_. Ichigo didn't want to feel this way, so he wouldn't. And who the fuck was this guy who was just stood there, blatantly staring at him? It was kind of creepy. Neliel was wrapped around him like a child, but other than the arm slung casually around her waist, all of this guy's attention was focused on Ichigo. It only got creepier when the guy smiled - a feral smirk that was all teeth.

"Excuse me?"

Ichigo was snapped back to reality, quite embarrassed, by a customer standing at the till, tapping her foot. He apologised quickly and started taking her order, all the while trying to listen into the conversation between Neliel and the creepy blue guy.

"Ara, where's Luppi? He didn't come in with you? Oh well, he'd only get weird again. Besides, I'm so happy to see my cute baby brother-"

"Shut up, Nel. As if I care."

"Hnn? Trouble in paradise?"

"I said shut up. Let me into the office, I haven't picked up my keys yet."

Then they were gone, and Ichigo couldn't hear any more. It was weird. He had been so disinterested in everyone for so long and yet, he wanted to know more. Was that guy Neliel's brother? Who was Luppi?

* * *

><p>Ichigo sighed and reached for the staff room door. His shift was over, and now he had to go home and deal with life again. He wondered if everyone felt like this about work. Surely they couldn't, because everyone else seemed to complain about it. He lifted his jacket off its hook, pulling it on as he made his way to the office to say good-bye to Neliel. She hadn't left the room since that weird guy had shown up. His thoughts were abruptly stopped as he ran into something hard.<p>

"Oww, fuck."

Typically, he fell on his arse. He heard a deep chuckle and froze, slowly looking up to see a hand offered to him. He hesitantly took it, the contact sending an unfamiliar spark through him. The guy's hand was so _big_. Strong. He was pulled up and just as he had returned to a standing position, Neliel walked out of the office.

"Oh! Have we already done introductions?"

She clapped happily and Ichigo realised the guy's hand was still wrapped around his. He tried to free it, but the man's grip only tightened. Ichigo looked back up to the guy's face to see a blue eyebrow raised.

"Nah, just about to. Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. Nice to meet you, kid."

He shook Ichigo's hand forcibly and Ichigo made sure to pin him with his best glare.

"It's not 'kid'. It's Kurosaki. Kurosaki Ichigo."

A brief wave of shock passed over the man's face before he let out a laugh, finally releasing Ichigo's hand and patting him roughly on the shoulder, making Ichigo's eyes widen. Everything about this guy made Ichigo feel _wrong_.

"So you're the newbie, huh, Ichigo? Nel won't fuckin' shut up about you. You're an asset to the team, apparently."

Ichigo simultaneously blushed and scowled at the compliment and use of his name so familiarly. He sniffed, rubbing at his nose discreetly.

"Mmhm, he's a trooper all right." Neliel added with a wink in Ichigo's direction. "Ichi-chan, Grimmy is a supervisor here, he just got back from holiday. Well, if you could call it that..."

She let out a little laugh and Ichigo heard Grimmjow growl as he glared at her.

"What was that I said earlier about shutting up?" The man sighed and licked his lips quickly, subtly. "Fuck this, I'm heading off. See ya Nel, Ichigo."

Ichigo barely heard the man's farewell. The way the man's tongue had peeked out of that mouth, ran along those lips - that were strangely full for a guy - and then disappeared, had Ichigo entranced. It had been such a quick action, as though the man did it all the time, it should have gone unnoticed.

Why did Ichigo have to notice?

He made to say good-bye to the man, but he had already left. Luckily Neliel was too busy pulling her jacket on to notice.

"Sorry about that, Ichi-chan, I shouldn't have left you out there for so long." She made a pouty face that Ichigo supposed was meant to be apologetic and went to grab her bag. "I'm just such a stickler for gossip! You ready to go?"

Ichigo nodded and was just about to ask Neliel whether Grimmjow was actually her brother, when a loud slamming noise reverberated through the back rooms.

"WHERE THE FUCK IS HE?"

Ichigo's eyes widened as he took in the sight of a rather dishevelled… Woman? Oh no wait, he had no breasts. But hell, that was one feminine dude. He was short, even with platform shoes on - were guys allowed to wear those? - and had black hair shaped into a bob. His chest was heaving and his forehead sweating, as though he had been running. His lilac eyes were wide, a snarl on his pouty lips. Needless to say, he looked pissed off.

"Luppi-cha-"

"_Don't_ fuckin' give me that, Nel! Where the _fuck_ is he? I bet you've had your filthy paws all over him agai-"

"Oh, get over yourself, Luppi."

"WHAT?"

Ichigo felt awkward to say the least. He was just stood there, watching this crazy dude go off on one. Neliel was exuding a menacing aura now, her tone calm but cold, her arms crossed over her ample chest. Ichigo wanted to run for the hills, but felt as though he had been glued to the spot.

Why did he care?

"He's _mine_, Neliel! You know he is!"

"You _know_ we're not like that. I see Grimmjow as a brother, nothing more. In case you have forgotten, I am happily married! Calm down, Luppi. Go home. If you still want your job, you'll do well not to let your personal life affect your work. Make sure you come in tomorrow."

"I can't work with hi-"

"You'll have to."

Neliel's tone was final. The petite man left with a glare, quieter this time. Ichigo looked over to Neliel, offering her a small smile, and the woman rolled her eyes.

"Sorry about that, Ichi-chan. You want a lift home?"

* * *

><p>The sky was starting to darken as they pulled up outside Ichigo's house. The young man moved to get out of the car, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He turned to Neliel, frowning at the serious expression on her face.<p>

"If there's any trouble tomorrow, you just call me."

Ichigo shot the older woman a confused expression before he remembered the earlier havoc. Tomorrow. Grimmjow was working tomorrow. That weird dude Luppi was working tomorrow. Slowly it clicked through his brain until it finally came to one conclusion.

_Shit_.

Ichigo nodded. Suddenly the woman was all smiles again - raising her palm from his shoulder only to bring it back in a playful slap - as she ushered him out of the car.

"Good luck!"

* * *

><p><em>May 3rd 2006, 10:00<em>

Today was as tense as hell.

Ichigo had arrived at Arrancar an hour ago, only to be met with an extremely pissed off Grimmjow. Apparently, one of the other weekend workers had phoned in sick. A surprisingly quick calculation on Ichigo's part revealed that that left none other than himself, Grimmjow and Luppi on shift.

_Brilliant_.

Ichigo couldn't decide whether it was a good or bad thing that Luppi hadn't arrived yet. Things were more than a little awkward between Ichigo and Grimmjow - mainly due to the older man's mood and the younger's inability to socialise - but Ichigo could only see things getting worse once the effeminate employee showed up.

Ichigo was tingling with something foreign: interest. He had never been one for gossip, not really, yet here he was. He wanted to know what was going to happen. He wanted to know what was going on. He blanched as he wondered whether spending so much time around Neliel had started to influence his own way of thinking.

Ichigo checked the clock. _10:05_. Luppi was five minutes late, and Ichigo could imagine Grimmjow getting more and more worked up with each passing second. As he served customer after customer, he wondered what Grimmjow would do about the missing employee's tardiness.

A short figure appeared next to him and Ichigo jumped involuntarily. He quickly regained his composure and looked over his co-worker. His bob looked sleek, but on closer inspection was revealed to be lank, unstyled. His complexion was pallid, his eyes bloodshot, deep purple rings laying underneath them. Ichigo felt a pang of sympathy. Lilac eyes slowly rose to meet Ichigo's and he offered the man a small smile.

"What the fuck are you looking at?"

The smile quickly left and was replaced with the customary frown. _Fuck __him, __then_. Ichigo made to respond but was cut off as he was pushed to the side.

"Move over, I'm taking you off till." Lilac eyes narrowed and pouty lips spat out. "Grimmjow wants to see you in the office."

Ichigo's eyes widened. Not at Luppi's behaviour, hell he had come to expect that, but the fact that Grimmjow would allow this man on the floor on his own. Ichigo certainly wouldn't want to be served by such a sight. Shrugging and letting out a silent sigh, he left for the office. He knocked once and pushed open the door, wondering if he had done something wrong - would Grimmjow shout at him? He _had_ been in a terrible mood all morning.

Ichigo stilled at the door.

Grimmjow was sat with his head in his hands, his fingers massaging his temple. Now that Ichigo dared to move closer, he noticed that the older man also looked tired, although not half as bad as Luppi. He took a seat next to the man, his brow furrowing.

"You okay?"

Grimmjow jumped slightly. Had he not realised Ichigo was there? He looked deep in thought, Ichigo realised, as he took in the other's glazed eyes. Grimmjow removed his head from his hands. Ignoring Ichigo's question, he looked at the younger man sternly, his eyes seeming to clear.

"I need to apologise to ya, kid."

Ichigo frowned but bit his lip against correcting his name. Now was not the time. The older man let out a sigh and shook his head slightly.

"I never woulda thought I'd end up bringin' my fuckin' personal life into work, but… Anyway. You've been dragged into it. That's not fair."

Ichigo shrugged despite the raising of his eyebrows. 'Personal life', huh? So… What was Luppi to Grimmjow? Were they-

"And yet I gotta ask you a favour."

Ichigo remained silent. What on earth could Grimmjow need from him?

"It's a Sunday, and as you probably know by now, it's gonna be dead. I've done all of my banking already so I'll be on the floor to help ya out…"

Grimmjow finally faced the younger man, his eyes settling on the other's.

"I'm gonna send Luppi home, which means we're gonna be majorly understaffed. We'll probably finish late. I'm just wonderin' if ya could put that bit more work in today. For me."

Ichigo was genuinely shocked. He wanted to ask why Grimmjow would do such a thing, put them under so much pressure. Yes, Sundays were usually quiet, but that didn't mean this one couldn't be busy. Would they cope? Ichigo took another look at the man. He was chewing at his thumb nail, eyes still on Ichigo.

Really, if he thought about it a little more, the younger man could see where he was coming from. If Ichigo had had an argument - one big enough to make the pair look like they did - would he really want to be around the other party? No. Also, this could go way deeper than Ichigo could imagine. He had no idea what had happened.

There was one other factor, too. Grimmjow was his supervisor - Ichigo had to trust that he would make the right, professional decision. An orange head nodded.

"Yeah, sure."

* * *

><p>The rest of the shift went strangely smoothly. Luppi left without much of a fuss - a shouted 'fuck you' that was just barely audible from the floor and an intense glare in Ichigo's direction - and Grimmjow had kept his word, coming out of the office and pulling more than his weight. They hadn't been too busy and so Ichigo had - at first unwillingly - been able to talk to the man.<p>

Ichigo was shocked to find that he didn't hate him - his first impression being that Grimmjow was an insufferable arrogant arse - and that he didn't hate Ichigo. Other than Neliel, no one had ever said more than two words to the orange-haired teen. Grimmjow was so different to Neliel, though. She was warm and happy and motherly. He was, well… Himself. He wasn't trying to be nice to Ichigo or trying to make him laugh - it just happened.

It wasn't as if the two had anything in common - Ichigo, a sixteen-year-old student with unusual habits and Grimmjow, a twenty-two year old man with an obsession with coffee and sport - yet Ichigo felt something there. It was there when the older man smiled, when he licked his lips, when he laughed. Ichigo moved to rub his nose on his sleeve.

"You ill, kid?"

"Ichigo." The younger man quickly corrected with a frown. "Do I look ill to you?"

The older man smiled, shaking his head, before looking up at Ichigo with an unrecognisable expression.

"Kinda."

"Hey!"

"Well, you've been snifflin' all day, and you ain't exactly radiant, ya know? You gettin' over man-flu or some shit?"

Ichigo's eyes widened.

_No_.

_He couldn't._

Ichigo shook his head. From the way the man was looking at him, Ichigo could tell he hadn't worked it out. But, still… Ichigo hadn't even noticed he'd been doing it that much. He decided he'd be more careful from now on. If anyone at work found out, then he would lose his job. Then it would be bye-bye distraction.

"I'm fine."

Grimmjow grabbed his keys and shrugged on his jacket, motioning for Ichigo to do the same.

"You'd better be, don't want any of my other staff gettin' sick."

Grimmjow offered the younger man a lift home, but Ichigo declined. He was meeting someone. As he watched the older man walk to his car, throwing a hand in the air by way of farewell, he slumped in a bench outside his workplace. He looked down at pale, shaking hands. Let out a deep breath. As he waited, one thought plagued him.

_Oh, don't worry. They couldn't catch this._

* * *

><p><em>May 8th 2006, 12:30<em>

It was lunch time at Karakura Sixth Form College and all of the students milled about - buying food, sitting with friends, chattering animatedly, laughing. Except one. Ichigo sat on the roof, back against the railings, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he glared at the sky. Today was a fucking bad day. Ichigo couldn't concentrate in his lessons. He'd run out, already. That meant he'd have to see _that_ _man_ again.

"Kurosaki Ichigo?"

Amber eyes snapped to an approaching figure, orange brows glued into their usual frown. A warning. _'__Don__'__t __come __near __me.__'_ Ichigo was antsy, he needed to be alone right now. He was starting to sweat and really hoped this other person didn't realise as they stepped ever closer.

"Who the fuck're you?"

Ichigo's eyes flickered over the figure that was now standing directly in front of him and his lip curled. He recognised this guy. He was said to be a genius, a prodigy in the sciences, a freak. He was said to be in competition with that other stuck up prick, Ishida Uryuu, for the top grades in the school. He couldn't recall a name, however. He flicked his cigarette away with slightly shaking hands.

The freak was chuckling lightly. He removed one of the arms that had been crossed over his chest and held out his hand. With the other he pushed a pair of glasses up a straight nose, before flicking away a strand of pink hair. A slightly deranged smirk pulled at his lips.

"Szayel Aporro Granz."

Ichigo simply glared at the hand. He needed this guy to back off.

"The fuck d'you want?"

Szayel sighed elaborately before sitting in front of Ichigo, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and offering it to the orange-haired man. Still glaring, Ichigo took one. They lit up, Szayel gazing at Ichigo as though he was analysing him, the other staring back with malice.

"You work at Arrancar, if I am correct?" The man's tone implied that the opposite was rarely the case. "I heard about you from my brother."

Ichigo simply glared, taking a heavy drag on his cigarette, uninterested.

"It really is strange, he keeps talking about you, and yet he seems to know nothing about you... When he mentioned you for the first time, I really did have to think twice about whether it was could truly be _that_ Kurosaki Ichigo. But it has to be."

"You got a point, dickwad?"

"My, my. Do you not wish to know if someone is interested in you?"

"A lot of people are _interested_ in me, douchebag. I don't give a shit what they say about me. They can spread all the rumours they-"

The other man was chuckling.

"You really are intriguing… You seem to have mistaken me completely, Kurosaki. When I said 'interested', it was not meant in a negative way. I am no gossip whore, but a mere collector of information."

Ichigo pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn't get it. His brain couldn't process the other's words. He needed to get away from this guy and get in contact with Yammy, as soon as physically possible. He really couldn't give a shit about what this guy had to say. He was about to get up and leave when the young man spoke again.

"But still, to think that Grimmjow had no idea about the drugs…"

Amber eyes snapped up to meet the other's. A growl formed behind cracked lips.

"What did you just say?"

The pink-haired man replied calmly, almost teasingly, each word precise as if mocking Ichigo's clouded brain.

"My brother. Well, half-brother. Grimmjow. He is your supervisor, is he not? He had no idea you are an addict."

"DON'T fuckin' talk to me like you're a doctor, asswipe. I swear to God I'll-"

"My, my. Do calm down. We all have our demons, do we not? And luckily for you, my brother is oblivious to most things."

Ichigo watched with wide eyes as a smirk pulled at the other man's lips, a thin arm reaching into a back pocket and pulling out a wallet. From a cut in the lining, Szayel pulled a small baggie, filled with white powder.

"Looks like you need a hand, no? I am willing to donate to your cause."

"O-oy, Grantz-"

"Szayel, please."

"Szayel… Are you trying to tell me…"

The man wasn't paying attention, too busy chopping lines on the back of a book he had pulled from somewhere. He offered Ichigo a rolled note and a smile.

"I'm sure we shall have a stunning friendship, Ichigo."

* * *

><p><em>August <em>_16__th __2006, __18:00_

Ichigo was scared.

Oh no, nothing bad had happened, per se. He had been working, as he did every Saturday. The day had gone well, he hadn't made any mistakes. He'd even made quite a few tips. There was just one thing, one _tiny __little_ _thing_, that had fucked him over.

Grimmjow was supervising.

It's not like such a thing was a rare occurrence. Neliel had explained to him that she rarely worked weekends - that was her 'baby brother's job, apparently - she had simply filled in for Grimmjow whilst he had been away. The man was also very good at what he did - he was loud and arrogant but he commanded respect - or so Ichigo had learnt from the few shifts he had worked with him. That wasn't the problem.

The problem was the thoughts that Ichigo hadn't been able to unthink. It had been fine before, when he had worked with Neliel and rarely anyone else. When no one else spoke to him. But, Grimmjow - he would start conversations with him, ask him to do extra jobs, ask him if he was over his man-flu yet. Ichigo wasn't sure whether he liked this new attention.

The orange-haired man was currently sat in the office, spinning back and forth in a wheeled chair. Grimmjow sat just a short distance from him, doing the end-of-day banking. No matter how hard Ichigo tried, he couldn't help but sneak quick glances at the other man when he wasn't looking.

Grimmjow's large hands expertly flicking through notes.

Grimmjow frowning at the numbers.

Grimmjow licking his lips.

"Ichigo."

The young man started before turning to face him. The older man smirked.

"Could you stick this in the safe for me?"

Ichigo of course complied, nodding briefly before reaching his hand out to take the envelope of cash. He could have sworn, as the older man placed the wad in his palm, that Grimmjow's fingers lingered, just slightly, before pulling away. Ichigo's brow furrowed and he glared at the man, but he wasn't paying attention, his eyes back on the books.

Of course he wasn't - this was all Ichigo's imagination.

Why had this had to happen? Work was supposed to be a distraction. Now, Grimmjow was distracting him from his distraction. He had taken up all of Ichigo's attention, and the younger man hated it. He didn't want to feel this way. He didn't want to keep looking at the man from the corner of his eye, stuttering when he talked to him, blushing like a virgin every time the man addressed him. He didn't want his heart rate to quicken whenever the man stood close to him. He didn't want his palms to sweat, his hands to tremble, as he slotted the envelope into the safe.

He didn't want Grimmjow.

Ichigo couldn't deny that he was _attracted_. He just didn't know where this attraction had come from. He'd had relationships with girls, slept with girls, hell he'd even his told his last girlfriend that he loved her. Although, now that he thought about it, he had said that more to pacify her than anything else. They had broken up shortly afterwards, after Ichigo had simply lost interest. It was nothing to do with _him_.

Even if he could admit that he wanted Grimmjow, nothing could ever happen. It's not that the older man was straight - that, strangely enough, wasn't the issue. More like he was taken. And quite a lot older. And not interested in Ichigo _at __all_. Ichigo wanted to pull at his hair. Why was he even thinking about this?

His cheeks flushed as he thought back to the previous night. He had woken up sweating and hard, the flickering images of an intense dream still in his sight. He had stroked himself furiously as he had recollected his not-quite-forgotten fantasy.

The stock room. Large hands, strong arms. Clothes flying. Flesh on flesh on flesh. Danger. Blue hair, blue eyes. Sharp teeth, white teeth. White light. Consciousness.

Guilt.

* * *

><p>"D'you want a lift home?"<p>

"Nah. I'm meeting someone."

"Girlfriend?"

"No."

Ichigo frowned at the floor. He could feel Grimmjow's eyes on him, but he couldn't meet his gaze. They were stood outside now, Ichigo waiting for Grimmjow to leave so he could take his usual seat on the bench. Wait for the call. The older man wasn't leaving, though.

"Boyfriend?"

Wide amber eyes. A slight shake of the hand. Sleeve against nostrils.

"No."

"Hmm. Well, I'll see ya later Ichigo. Thanks for today."

* * *

><p><em>November 1st 2006, 23:00<em>

_Ah, fuck._

Why did Ichigo keep finding himself in such awkward situations?

He was currently sat in the middle of one of Karakura's best restaurants at a table full of people - only two of which had ever talked to him. Neliel had forced Ichigo to come out with the Arrancar staff, as he had never done so before. Ichigo probably wouldn't have minded so much, had it not been for the occasion.

Luppi's leaving meal.

The man in question was - thank the Lord - sat quite a way from Ichigo. He was in the corner, ignoring everyone and everything, bar the bottle of wine he was currently emptying into his glass. His eyes were glazed, hand clumsy as he tilted the glass to stained lips. Neliel, who had insisted she sat next to Ichigo, aimed a forceful kick under the table. Her victim quickly growled in his throat, pushing himself out of his seat, piercing blue glare settling on his attacker.

"Fine. I'll fuckin' deal with it, shall I? Che."

Ichigo watched as Grimmjow stomped towards Luppi, his hands in his pockets. He looked thoroughly disinterested. The other staff quieted, watching. A loud slap could be heard as Grimmjow reached out for the smaller man.

"DON'T. Fuckin'. Touch me!"

"Fuckin' stop the dramatics, will ya Lu? C'mon, I'm takin' ya home."

"Don't call me that."

Ichigo was shocked to see a silent tear falling down the effeminate man's face as he rose from his chair, an air of defeat surrounding him. He grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He pushed past Grimmjow, his voice quiet.

"Don't call me that any more."

Grimmjow stood, rooted to the spot, as the other man left the restaurant. The table was now silent. Neliel turned to Ichigo with an exasperated 'oh my…' before loudly declaring to the table that the next round was on her. Various other employees cheered. When she turned back to talk to Ichigo, he was gone.

* * *

><p>"You were in there a long time."<p>

Ichigo jumped at the sound of the older man's voice. He had returned from the bathroom to find the table mostly empty - apparently everyone else had left with Nel for the bar. Grimmjow took his seat opposite Ichigo, a small smirk on his lips but a shadow in his eyes.

"Got the shits?"

Ichigo deadpanned. This man really was oblivious.

_Ah, well. At least it's working in my favour. _

It meant that the older man did not suspect his activities, nor his emotions.

It was at that moment that Neliel decided to resurface, banging down a beer in front of Ichigo. Her arm wound its way around his shoulders, and she rested her head on him heavily.

"Drink up, Ichi-chan!"

Ichigo tried to pry the woman off him without much avail. So he settled for thanking the woman, taking a sip from the cold pint and trying not to spill it as she began to nuzzle against him. She jumped, her head shooting up, as a large hand banged down on the table.

"Oi, Nel! You pissed already? The kid's underage!"

Ichigo shot a deadly glare in Grimmjow's direction, silently pleased when Neliel returned to her seat, her arm releasing him in favour of grasping her drink.

"I'm not a child, you know. I'm seventeen."

"Seventeen is still three years too early to be drinking."

"So when did you start drinking, _old __man_?"

Grimmjow growled in his throat, and for some reason Ichigo found himself returning the action. This guy was starting to piss him off. It was just a beer, for fucks sake. Alcohol, a legal substance deemed relatively harmless. What gave Grimmjow the right to say anything about it, when he couldn't even spot the basic signs of-

"Ha! You're hilarious to wind up, kid."

_What._

It had all been a joke. Ichigo should have known that, and yet he had got so angry. He just felt so on edge, especially around this man. Especially since… Since what? Since they'd started talking? Since Grimmjow had taken Ichigo's number, started texting him? Since they had become friends? Since all of these things had happened, none of which quelling the strange feelings Ichigo was struggling to come to terms with?

"I'm going for a cigarette."

* * *

><p>Ichigo, for once, had agreed to a ride home. After all, he'd made a call earlier in the day. It should have been enough. It hadn't lasted, though. Ichigo blamed the stress of the night. That, however, didn't change the fact that his hands were shaking, his palms sweating, his heart beating an uneven rhythm beneath his ribs. He didn't know whether <em>that<em> was to blame, though. As far as he knew, it could be because of the man that currently sat in the driver's seat of the dark blue Audi.

Grimmjow, Ichigo had discovered, looked beautiful when driving. His brows furrowed in concentration, his hands gripped the wheel lazily, his tongue dancing across his lips more often. They were talking, Grimmjow's gruff voice explaining amusedly his drunken antics as a teenager, and Ichigo was grateful to have an excuse to look at him. He could look, right? There was no harm in looking. Nothing would happen. This was just a one-sided crush.

Grimmjow pulled up outside Ichigo's family home, the younger man gratefully noting that all of the lights were out. Grimmjow was laughing as he pulled the hand-brake and turned to the younger man. Ichigo was slumped in his seat, his head tilted to face the other against the headrest. He released the seat belt and stretched, absently sniffing before facing the man again.

"Thanks for the lift, Grimmjow."

The older man looked confused, and Ichigo unknowingly mirrored the expression, slumping back in his seat. He was comfortable here, and didn't especially want to return to his family home, but knew it had to be done. Brows furrowed, he tried to catch Grimmjow's eyes, but they weren't focusing back. What was he looking at? Was something wrong?

Blue eyes flickered up to his. Back down, up again. The older man licked his lips and Ichigo couldn't help but stare at the action. Why was it so _intriguing_? Ichigo was pretty sure that anyone who licked their lips as much as this man must have terribly dry skin. Yet still, that tongue peeked out, ran along those plump plains, retreated again. Ichigo found himself shifting closer to the man. His heart picked up its pace.

Grimmjow leaned forward slightly, his hand moving to the edge of the passenger seat. Ichigo could smell his aftershave, the mint on his breath. Found his heart in his throat as amber eyes raised to meet blue, only then realising how long he had been staring at the older man's mouth. Where had this tension come from? It felt so heavy, pushing down on him, crushing his insides. He couldn't move.

He didn't have to. Grimmjow was leaning, edging slowly closer, and Ichigo found himself wanting him closer still. His scent was intoxicating, his eyes full despite his still-confused expression. Ichigo took a deep, silent breath. Pushed himself forwards - a hand on the driver's seat, another grappling at the edge of his own.

_Close the distance. I can't go any further. _

_Not on my own._

The two men sat nose-to-nose for what felt like an eternity. Hot breath fanning against lips, hands gripping seats. Ichigo's heart was thundering so loudly, he found it a wonder the other man couldn't hear it. Grimmjow licked his lips, and Ichigo almost whimpered. This felt so _wrong_. Why did he want this? Grimmjow was a man. Ichigo had never kissed a man. He wondered if this was really happening - or would Grimmjow pull away at any moment, act like nothing had happened?

Hot lips met his own. Ichigo, once his shock had subsided, discovered that they were not in fact dry, as he had imagined. They were strangely soft, softer than his last girlfriend's, completely condescending the man's rough exterior. Ichigo felt as though he had suddenly found his strength as he pushed up and forwards, his hand moving from the seat to a muscular thigh. Grimmjow growled, swiping that tongue against Ichigo's lips, and the young man fleetingly wondered if that's why he did it so much.

It felt so _good_.

Lips parted and Ichigo found himself overpowered as the older man brought an arm around his waist, pulling him closer. Calloused fingers scratched against the fabric of Ichigo's dress shirt, making him shiver. He clawed at the thigh under his grasp. Everything was filled with an incredible heat - Ichigo had never felt anything like it. If this was what kissing a man felt like, he would do it more often.

_Preferably with Grimmjow._

Blunt teeth grazed Ichigo's bottom lip as Grimmjow slowly pulled away. Both men's breathing was laboured as they searched each other's faces. Ichigo felt like he should be panicking. He had never done that before. Grimmjow was a lot older. He was his supervisor. Ichigo had only just started to come to terms with the fact that he had feelings other than friendship towards the man - what would happen now? Did Grimmjow like Ichigo like _that_?

Grimmjow scanned Ichigo's face, trying to meet his eyes. The younger man's teeth worried at his lips before his tongue swept along them, trying to catch the last taste of the other's mouth. Grimmjow couldn't help himself. He grasped the younger man's chin and leaned in again. There was no urgency in this kiss, no rush, less uncertainty. A slow tempo gracefully falling to a stop. Grimmjow ran his thumb along Ichigo's cheekbone, his eyes narrowing slightly before he pulled away from the younger man.

"S'late." He whispered, breaking the silence. He cleared his throat, his voice gaining a little volume, his lips quirking as he spoke again. "Past your bedtime, eh kid?"

Ichigo frowned, but his lips pulled up into a smile, regardless. So this was how the man worked. Ichigo could cope with that - it certainly made things less awkward. He nodded in response, not noticing the quick flicker of worry that passed the older man's face. He straightened his shirt and sniffed, reaching for the door handle.

"I'll text ya, Ichigo."

With his back turned to the man, Ichigo allowed himself to smile a little wider. He turned around briefly as he opened the door.

"See you later, Grimmjow."

* * *

><p><em>January 1st 2007<em>

_00:05 - Oi, you still awake?_

_00:07 - Yeah sorry, I was having a smoke. What did you mean?_

_00:10 - What d'ya think I meant? I said I'll come get ya._

_00:11 - Now?_

_00:13 - Problem?_

Twenty minutes later, Ichigo found himself creeping down the stairs, more paranoid than he had ever been. Sure, he'd sneaked out of the house before. He'd just never sneaked out of the house to stay at another man's house.

_Oh my God._

Yes, that was the reality setting in. Grimmjow had come to pick Ichigo up. To take him back to his place. It's not like this was the first time Ichigo would be visiting there - they had been seeing each other for a little over a month - they had even done _stuff_ there… But this was, like, staying _over_. Ichigo was nervous, yes, hideously so in fact - but he was also excited. Both of these things worried him.

He softly opened the door, quickly leaving and locking it as quietly as he could behind him. Breathing a sigh of relief when he had done so, he walked towards the purring car parked on the pavement. He swung the door open, chucking the small overnight bag he had onto the floor and quickly sitting down afterwards, pulling the seat-belt over and clicking it into position. It was then that he finally dared to look at Grimmjow.

The older man had both hands on the steering wheel, his head tilted towards Ichigo, a smirk eating his face. Ichigo's lips tilted up of their own accord and the older man put the car into gear.

"Got everything?"

* * *

><p>This was unlike anything Ichigo had ever experienced.<p>

He was currently lying spread-eagle in the middle of Grimmjow's bed, clothes scattered about the floor, his breathing heavy as he tried to get used to the foreign feeling. He had been reluctant at first, but the older man was extremely persuasive when it came to such situations, and so… He had ended up here.

"Nnn!"

Long, thin fingers tangled in damp blue locks. An amber eye cracked slowly open, unable to refrain from watching what was happening. Ichigo gasped as he saw deep blue eyes staring back up at him. Had he been watching the entire time? Ichigo let out a small whine as Grimmjow picked up his pace, fingers tightening in his hair.

It had started around an hour ago, when the two had arrived at the house, quietly passing through the door and making their way up the stairs. Grimmjow still lived at home, Ichigo had discovered the first time he visited - apparently a supervisor position at Arrancar was not nearly enough to get you your own place.

Grimmjow had led Ichigo to his room. As soon as the young man had passed through the door, he found himself slammed back against it. Grimmjow's mouth was heavy on his, large hands already tracing along his ribs, making quick work of removing his shirt. Within minutes the two had been naked, entangled, laying on their sides on the pillowy bed.

This was nothing new to Ichigo. Although still rather tentative about his feelings towards the older man, he had been rather quick to adapt to the physical aspect of things. Grimmjow was good, more than good, and Ichigo had quickly learnt that the man held a certain power over him.

Like when he had rolled Ichigo onto his back, his hand working a teasing rhythm on his cock, deep voice growling in his ear.

"You want this to feel even better, Ichigo?"

Ichigo nodded, panting, grasping at the short strands at Grimmjow's nape, pulling him in for another heated kiss. When they parted for breath, Grimmjow reached for his bedside table, pulling a small bottle from the top drawer. Ichigo eyed it warily, now knowing what Grimmjow had meant.

Ichigo wasn't stupid, he knew how men had sex. He had also accepted quite quickly that he would not be taking the dominant role in this… Relationship of sorts. But was he ready for this? He watched as Grimmjow leant back, his eyes scraping hungrily over Ichigo's naked form. The large hands that he had become quite obsessed over were roaming his body, leaving trails of heat wherever they went. They ventured lower - across hips, up thighs, up to the rounded flesh of Ichigo's cheeks - pausing between them. Grimmjow licked his lips.

"Can I?"

His voice was rough, gravelly, and it did nothing but turn Ichigo on further. He swept his eyes across the figure above him. Grimmjow's eyes looked as though they saw nothing but him. Slight perspiration could be seen across his brow, his large chest heaving, although his breathing sounded relatively controlled. His arousal stood heavy and proud, and Ichigo found himself wanting to touch the older man.

So he did.

He reached out, curling his hand around the base, watching Grimmjow's face as he slowly slid his hand upwards, twisting around the head, back down. Grimmjow grunted softly in his throat, his eyebrows furrowing, still watching the younger man. He began to move his hands away from Ichigo's ass, but was stopped by the Ichigo's other hand. The younger man licked his drying lips.

"You can."

Grimmjow's face broke out into a feral grin. He swooped down to plant a kiss on the Ichigo's forehead, before popping open the small bottle and coating his fingers. His clean hand swept down Ichigo's stomach, slapping his thigh playfully.

"This'll probably be easier fer you if you turn over."

Grimmjow whispered into the younger man's ear, before nipping at his earlobe. He rose up, pulling away, allowing Ichigo space to move, taking in the sight of the young man rising up on his hands and knees, his head dropping to the pillows. Grimmjow rested atop of Ichigo as he leant over to whisper to him once again.

"If you wanna stop, you say the word."

Ichigo nodded against the pillows. Having Grimmjow on top of him like this felt good, too good, and Ichigo began to feel more excited than nervous. He wondered what it would feel like to have Grimmjow inside him, and his thighs began to shake as he realised that he might not have to wonder much longer. His breath hitched in his throat as Grimmjow grazed his hands down his back, one of them parting his cheeks and the other seeking his entrance.

Ichigo whimpered quietly as he felt a cool, wet fingertip circling, pushing into him slowly. It didn't hurt, he was relieved to realise. It did feel rather weird, though. Was this all it was? Grimmjow's left hand stopped massaging his cheek, slipping over his hip and down to his erection, where he started a slowly increasing pace. Hearing no protest from the younger man, Grimmjow added a second finger. Ichigo hissed as he tried to adjust to the strange sensation, squirming beneath the larger man. It was then that Grimmjow began searching, and it wasn't too long before Ichigo let out a harsh groan, pushing back on the fingers intruding him.

Whatever had just happened, it had felt fucking _awesome_.

Grimmjow added another finger without hesitation, and Ichigo did nothing but moan back. He felt so hot, so full, he didn't want this to stop, it wasn't enough. He knew only that Grimmjow had not been lying when he said he could make things feel better. This felt better than any high... He could only hope that it didn't end with a comedown.

Grimmjow blew out a heavy breath at the sight and feel of Ichigo beneath him. He pulled his fingers out slowly, reaching for the lube again. This was it, Ichigo realised. No going back, now. Grimmjow positioned himself at Ichigo's entrance.

"You ready?"

Ichigo could no longer speak. He groaned in response, pushing back against Grimmjow. This was it. He had come this far, and he found himself only wanting to go further. He gasped as he was stretched even further by Grimmjow's considerable length, slowly easing into him. Grimmjow only stopped when he was fully seated, his hands gripping Ichigo's hips almost painfully, his breathing harsh.

Grimmjow moved forwards, laying his stomach against Ichigo's back, his large hands moving to cover Ichigo's. His fingers linked over and through the smaller ones beneath them, squeezing slightly. Grimmjow kissed behind Ichigo's ear as he tried to calm himself.

"All good?"

Ichigo nodded, and Grimmjow began moving. His thrusts were slow but deep - tender, even - something Ichigo would never have expected from the older man. Grimmjow began kissing Ichigo's spine, ears, neck. The younger man groaned as he felt blunt teeth sink into his flesh, a hot hand wrapping its way around him, slowly torturing him.

"Nn, Grimm-_jow_…"

At the sound of the young man's voice Grimmjow increased his pace, changed his angle. His thrusts became harder, faster, the hand on Ichigo's cock quickening. Ichigo cried out, his head flying back when Grimmjow struck his prostate. The room was filled with sounds of passion - moans, pants, the wet slapping sounds that could only be considered arousing in such a situation - as both men raced to their finish.

Ichigo cried out, stiffening as he came harder than he could ever remember doing. Grimmjow followed soon after, his teeth biting into Ichigo's neck harshly, a muffled moan barely escaping his lips. The two collapsed, forming a mess of limbs as they held onto another. Grimmjow planted a kiss on Ichigo's temple and the younger man whined in response, pushing his lips up for the attention they craved from the other.

They kissed languidly, tongues dancing a slow waltz neither wished to end. Grimmjow stroked Ichigo's cheek as he left his mouth, his eyes searching the other's. A smirk formed on those perfect lips as they formed words that the other could not hear, having already fallen into the depths of sleep.

"Happy New Year, Ichigo."


	5. Red Is The New Black

**A/N: Hello beautiful readers, here is the next chapter of Recovery~ I apologise, I didn't realise how short it was until I was editing it. I hope you enjoy it, nonetheless. Thank you for all your reviews, and keep them coming!**

**I want to say a special thank you to Liz (seeing as you don't have an account so I can't respond to you on here): Thank you so much for your reviews, I really appreciate that you took the time to review each chapter as you read them. I'm glad you're enjoying this story, and I hope you will continue to do so!**

**In any case, back to the present time with you .。.:*・° .。.:*・~tuturu~ .。.:*・° .。.:*・° **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four: Red Is The New Black<strong>

_You can't pretend that_

_You're nothing special._

_You've got to look at all of the options._

_You can't decide what to go for _

_When it's all about trust._

_It's all about trust._

_This situation isn't getting any better._

_I see that look in your eyes._

_You want to see a pretty face?_

_There isn't anything wrong with giving up_

_And for what it's worth_

_I still hate you._

_-Red Is The New Black, Funeral For A Friend_

* * *

><p>I woke up in the same fashion as I always did. Well, over recent months anyway. Sleep left me, my body started to wake and before my eyes could open, my mind had supplied me with images of <em>him.<em>

This time, however - as I tried to force open my eyelids and my senses slowly awakened - I knew something was different. Instead of the cold other side of the bed, I felt warmth behind me. Instead of silence, I could hear soft breathing. I shuffled backwards slightly and a sleep-warmed chest met my back, an arm pulling me in. As hot breath rushed over my neck, I whimpered, the fear hitting hard.

_Don't let this be a dream._

I closed my eyes once more. They were so heavy, I could tell my body was exhausted. What little muscle I had left felt like lead, wrapping around my bones, weighing me down. But no matter how much my body protested, my mind was now awake. Pieces of information and snapshots started to seep into my brain and _why _did my neck hurt so much?

_Wait._

I shot up into a sitting position - the sheets falling around me and confirming that, yes, I was indeed naked - and snapped my head to the side to register the figure lying next to me. My eyes widened even as my limbs screamed at me to lie the fuck back down.

_It wasn't a dream._

The figure shifted, and I couldn't help but stare as I watched him stretch, his muscles rippling as he did so. I moved my eyes to his face in time to see one azure eye crack open sleepily, the other hidden by a rubbing hand.

_This was real._

"G'mornin'..."

I gazed at Grimmjow a little longer before I flopped back onto the bed next to him, lying on my stomach. My voice was croaky as I responded.

"Mornin'."

"Wassa time?"

I reached over for my phone and flipped open the case. The screen lit up, telling me that I had twenty-three text messages and sixteen missed calls - all from Rukia, of course. I ignored them, checking the clock.

"Five-thirty."

"Urgh. Gotta work soon."

I felt a pang somewhere in my chest. I didn't want this little daydream to end. I didn't want to return to reality, where I'd have to somehow deal with this mess that I had created. I yawned and stretched before settling onto my side, facing him. I watched as he snoozed a little longer - his chest moving slowly up and down, his eyes closed, his face relaxed. Very few people got to see him like this, and I was suddenly grateful that I had been the only person able to for so many years. And now, one more time.

Would this be my last look?

I watched as he licked his lips and his eyes flickered open to meet mine.

"C'mere."

I instantly did as I was told. Shuffled closer to him, closer to his warmth, felt it envelop me as his arms locked around my form. Then his lips were on mine, his hand under my chin, and I was moulding myself to him. I could feel his hard length against my thigh. I whimpered in my throat as he deepened the kiss, his hand moving down my neck, grazing my side, cupping my ass.

Who cared about morning breath?

I could feel myself panting underneath his mouth and I had to stop myself from moaning just at the feel of his hand massaging my cheek, pulling me closer, closer, until my leg wrapped around his hip and he was forcing me onto my back with a growl. One of his hands moved to pin my wrists above my head, the other released my ass in favour of pushing hard circles into my hip bone.

He released my mouth and I groaned breathlessly as he ground against me, his mouth finding purchase behind my ear, nipping softly at the flesh there. Grimmjow was just so _hot. _His heat was everywhere - my hands, my stomach, my cock - and my skin was already glowing under his administrations. If only he would touch me, touch us, like last night-

His tongue was forming a wet trail down my neck. It swept across my collarbone, down my sternum. His hands were moving lower, brushing light swirling patterns from the backs of my knees to the insides of my thighs. Then he was shifting down, his eyes on mine as his tongue flicked out at a nipple.

_Oh god. Is he going to-_

I wondered if he could feel my heartbeat through his tongue as it ventured lower, over my stomach, following the fine trail of blonde hairs that marked the path to where I needed his mouth to be. Then he was laving over my hip bone, biting into it, making me cry out. He was teasing me, his breath hot on my inner thigh, and as much as I loved to be teased I felt like this was really not the time and if he could just hurry up that would be great.

He pinched the inside of my thigh and I felt him breathing over my cock as I simultaneously flinched and twitched. Then his hands were on the back of my thighs, pushing them up and over his shoulders. I watched him as he flicked his tongue out, bucked as its wet heat swirled over my head.

"Nng, Gri- Ah!"

His hot, wet mouth took me all the way down. His eyes were locked on my barely focused ones, his fingers tracing circles on my thighs as he swallowed around me. He started a teasing rhythm - up and down, around, a harsh squeeze of a thigh, a graze of teeth - driving me to the edge of both orgasm and insanity. I couldn't take my eyes off his. Searching.

_What is he trying to tell me?_

His hand wrapped around me and started a lazy rhythm as his tongue gave a final flick to my head. I didn't even have time to protest as his other hand, still holding my thigh, pushed up further, his tongue flattening against my balls - around them, under them - and suddenly I was crying out because his tongue was at my entrance, circling, pushing its way inside of me.

"Ugh, Grimm!"

Then he was hovering back over me, his tongue in my mouth, his arm reaching for the drawers nearby. I could taste myself on his tongue. I needed him, all of him - I wanted to feel him inside me again. Just once more. I was allowed that, right? I heard the familiar sound of a cap being flicked open and Grimmjow licked across my jaw, growling in my ear.

"You want me to fuck you, Ichigo?"

I could only shudder in response as I felt a wet finger sliding between my cheeks, pausing at my entrance. I tried to push myself down to him, tell him without words. I clawed at the bed sheets, at his shoulders, at anything in my reach. He wasn't moving. I dug my fingers into his chest, glaring at his smug expression.

_Move, damn it! Do something!_

"Yes! Fuck me, Grimm!"

He hissed into my ear as he pushed his finger past the ring of muscle.

"Now that's what I wanted to hear."

My whole body felt on fire as he thrust his fingers into me - one, two, three - watching me the entire time. I could feel the fierce flush on my face, my chest moving rapidly as I tried to breathe. Oh _God _I couldn't stand it anymore, I just needed him inside me, _now._ I reached out, grasping him in my hand, heard him grunt softly. Then his hand gripped my wrist, pulling me away from him.

His mouth returned to mine, sucking on my tongue, and I felt his fingers withdraw from within me. My breath hitched further as I heard the wet slapping sound of Grimmjow lubing up. I'm ashamed to say I was shaking with anticipation, but it's the truth. I just needed needed _needed _to feel him within me. It had been _so __long-_

The blunt tip of his cock was against me.

I couldn't breathe. I held in that single breath for God knows how long. Until his teeth were clamped over my bottom lip, and he was pushing himself slowly inside of me. I let the breath out in a groan as he sheathed himself, his panting harsh in my ear, his forehead resting on the pillow next to me. He hissed as he pulled back, made a shallow thrust as I adjusted around him.

"Fuck, Ichi. So fuckin' tight…"

Had he forgotten?

The thought soon left as he reared up again, his eyes back on mine as he gripped my hips in a bruising hold, pulled back. I wrapped my legs around his waist, clawed at his triceps with blunt nails, met his gaze head on. His cheeks were tinged with the slightest pink, his eyebrows knotted, his eyes full with an emotion I fully recognised. How many times had I seen him like this?

I had thought it would become less heart-stopping, over time.

How wrong I was.

Then he was moving - harsh, fast thrusts that had me crying out and grasping the headboard behind me. His hands hooked themselves behind my knees, pushed me wide open. Call me a masochist, but this was _exactly_ how I liked it. I wanted him to take - take everything from me, use me, treat me like shit - not only because I got off on it, but because it meant that I was of some use to him. That he wanted something from me, wanted _me._

It ended with me screaming, him pushing into my prostate with almost every quickening thrust, his large hand working my cock with expertise. His tongue laved at my neck, his teeth bit into already-bruised flesh and I came forcefully. I could only hold onto him as he pounded into me harder, his tongue tracing my jaw back into my mouth. His teeth clamped around my swollen bottom lip, biting down hard as he came, spilling himself inside of me.

I could feel him still twitching inside me as his mouth finally left mine, both of our breathing harsh.

"Shit, yer bleeding."

He licked at my lip in apology before instigating a slow, lazy kiss in which I could taste the copper of my own blood. I didn't really care. Then the warmth was gone as his mouth left mine, his fingers trailing slowly down my body as he gently pulled out. He fell boneless beside me and I felt my eyelids droop.

My post-coital daze was interrupted by the loud blare of a generic ring-tone.

Grimmjow pushed himself up heavily, reaching an arm out blindly to stop the noise, bringing the phone to his ear. He promptly pulled it away again, however, as shouting erupted from it.

"Where the fuck are ya, Grimm-TARD?"

"Hirako, you bastard… Shut the fuck up, will ya? You're too loud for this time of mornin'."

"Well maybe I wouldn't HAVE ta be if SOME dumbass got to work on time! Where the fuck are ya? I'm freezin' my tits off out here."

"Quit yer bitchin', I'll be there in fifteen."

"I'd better get a free muffin out of this, you-"

Hirako was promptly cut off as Grimmjow pressed the end button. I watched as he raised up on his haunches, stretching.

"C'mon, I'll give you a lift home."

I shook my head and yawned.

"Nah, s'fine. I can walk. Plus, you're late enough as it is."

Grimmjow only nodded as he got up, pulling on some navy slim-fit jeans and a clean shirt from the mirrored wardrobe. He left for the bathroom and I slowly dressed myself, noting that I had not been quite this sore for a while. I checked myself in the mirrors quickly, pulling down my shirt and running a hand through my hair and-

_Well, __shit_.

Deep purple bruises and fresh red marks littered my neck. My lip was swollen, a slight scab forming in the shape of teeth-marks. I looked thoroughly _fucked._

I could only grin at my reflection.

* * *

><p>I would be lying if I said the walk home wasn't uncomfortable. Skinny jeans are not meant to be worn straight after rough sex, you see. I screwed up my face as I felt my boxers dampening, the fabric feeling like sandpaper against my arse. I couldn't find it in me to chastise myself, though.<p>

Grimmjow of course was fine, leading me out of the flat and down the stairs - much to the chagrin of my derrière - in silence. But then, the strangest thing happened. We had just left the complex - I was about to shove my hands in my pockets to slyly pull down my boxers - when he reached out, taking my hand in his. His fingers threaded through mine and I couldn't help but look down at them.

It just looked _right._

It was then that my mind decided to wake up a little more and start asking questions. Why was Grimmjow holding my hand? Why wasn't he saying anything? Why did we both have to work today? More importantly... _What __was __going __to __happen __now?_

We had almost reached Espada when he stopped me, pulling me to face him. I simply looked up at him, confusion marring my brow. Had he forgotten something?

"I'm gonna do this here, because if Hirako sees, it'll be all over town in three seconds flat."

I nodded in response, although I had no idea what he was really on about. Then his hand squeezed mine and he was leaning down to kiss me. It was so simple - a soft meeting and brief parting of lips, his thumb on my cheek - but it held so many complexities. So many feelings.

Worry. Doubt. Hope.

Love.

I could have cried as I remembered his broken confession the night before.

"_I still love you, Ichi. I never stopped loving you."_

Instead, I swallowed thickly as his lips left mine, his hand slipping from my grasp, the thumb on my cheek tracing my features before dropping to his side. His gaze lingered on me a little longer before he continued walking, his hands in his pockets. I followed slightly behind him, pulled my hood up.

I didn't want to cause him any trouble.

"I'll talk to you later, Ichi."

His voice was quiet, low. We had reached the end of an alley on the opposite side of the road from Espada, slightly downhill. I nodded, although he couldn't see me, and we parted ways. I could see Hirako Shinji from the corner of my eye, thin arms crossed over his chest, an eyebrow raised. I don't know if he saw me. I didn't really care.

But didn't this feel _nostalgic?_

* * *

><p>The walk home cleared up quite a few things for me.<p>

1. I was not over Grimmjow.

2. I wanted him back.

3. I was a terrible person.

These things might seem pretty obvious to you, but for me, they were a complete revelation.

When Grimmjow and I parted ways, it was as if a light flicked on - all of my actions were illuminated, and I could suddenly see what I had done. I had slept with someone who was in a relationship. I had allowed, no, _encouraged_ him to cheat on his girlfriend. I wondered for a brief moment how Grimmjow felt about it. Was he feeling guilty? Did he hate me for it?

I swallowed thickly and pushed the thought to the back of my mind.

Unfortunately, that just allowed new ones to push their way to the forefront and battle for my attention. I pulled at my drying boxers with a wince. I started to feel dirty, _used_. Was that was this was? Had Grimmjow called me for one last fuck, and that would be it? We hadn't talked about anything afterwards, maybe that's what he thought I had wanted too.

_Shit_.

Then my thought pattern shifted. I honestly couldn't tell you whether such an occurrence was good or bad. I stopped admonishing myself, and started admonishing _her. _Inoue. I growled in my throat. Just the mere mention of her name had me burning up with rage, jealousy. I hated it, but couldn't deny it. Really, I had done nothing wrong. I wasn't the one in a relationship. It had been Grimmjow's choice.

In any case, how _dare_s he? I was hit by a wave of possessiveness. Grimmjow was _mine._ Did she really think that she, a teenage girl, could compete with me? She and Grimmjow must have been together for what - I did a quick, sickening count of fingers - three months at most? That hardly measured up to three years. Grimmjow and I had _lived _together. We had been through so _much._

According to my own twisted logic, my relationship with Grimmjow - despite being officially over - defeated her relationship with Grimmjow. If you could even call it that. Three months after I had started seeing him, not a lot had changed - to the outside world, anyway. No one even knew we were dating. It had been six months before we officially came out as a couple. I remembered something that Rukia had mentioned and realised that, other than myself and the people I had told, no one really knew about Inoue's involvement with him, either.

That's when the pity begrudgingly began to sink in. Now that I thought about it a little more, I did feel kind of sorry for her. Her boyfriend had cheated on her - not only physically, but emotionally, too - and she had absolutely no idea. She was probably at home right now, sleeping soundly, without a care in the world.

_Bitch_.

I suddenly found myself more smug than I had ever felt. Everyone has that one person, don't they? The one that they will always go to, the one that will always mean more to them than the next, the one that can't be replaced. I was that person. The ex that your boyfriend cheated on you with.

I chuckled darkly even as my stomach churned with disgust, and unlocked the front door to the family home.

I climbed the stairs as quickly and as quietly as possible. The last thing I needed was Yuzu or Karin - or God forbid, my _father__- _seeing me for the first time in days like this. Sneaking into the house like a naughty teenager, limping, looking like I got ran over by a train. I'd be avoiding _that_ little drama for as long as I could.

I checked my phone. I had an hour to get ready for work.

Pulling some clothes off the floor and tiptoeing to the bathroom, I turned the shower on and flicked through Rukia's seemingly endless messages as I waited for the water to heat up. They all consisted of mostly the same thing - where was I, had I talked to Grimmjow, was I still alive. I typed a quick reply in the affirmative and dropped my phone, stepping under the scalding spray.

* * *

><p>Work was boring as fuck.<p>

It was even more dead than usual. Due to that fact, I authorised myself to take my phone onto the shop floor and went about filling Rukia in with the details she was so desperate to know. I had wanted to see her in person - talk to her about the whole thing properly, confirm I wasn't going insane, that I had done the right thing - but she was once again absorbed in a new guy. I was quite surprised that she had even remembered about my meeting Grimmjow, but quickly corrected myself. I shouldn't think so little of her as a friend. In any case, she wasn't available.

Grimmjow hadn't text. I wasn't worried, not really. I knew he was working all day, and that he didn't get many breaks due to his managerial status. Just a quick text would have been nice though, you know? A 'how are you' or something. Anything to let me know that he was thinking about what had happened, thinking about me. It didn't come though.

Eventually, it was time to lock up. I stretched my aching limbs as I let out a yawn. I was fucking _tired_. Just as I left the premises - shaking the door once to make sure it was locked properly - my phone buzzed in my pocket. I flicked open the cover, thinking it must be Rukia - maybe she was available after all?

I frowned at the unknown number on the call screen, before shrugging and picking up.

"Yo."

A crackled voice came through the speaker.

"Ichigo, my dear friend! Guess who is back in town."

A smile broke out on my face as an electricity filled my stomach. Oh, yes. This was good news indeed.

"It's about fuckin' time."

The voice was clearer now. Dignified, deranged laughter filtered softly into my ear.

"Are you at home? May I come pick you up?"

"Nah, I just finished work. You can pick me up from here if you want, I'll wait."

"Excellent! Oh, and are you working tomorrow?"

"I'm all yours, Szacchan."

The call ended and my phone immediately started to vibrate again in my hand. I felt my brow furrow, knowing it couldn't be Szayel. That man couldn't forget anything if he tried. I felt my eyes widen at the name above the scrolling text and quickly opened the message, fingers shaking as adrenaline rushed through me.

_Was good to see you. Like I said, I didn't like us not talking. I don't really know what to do about this, fuckin confused. Need to think it over. Text me when you can._

Well that was certainly anti-climatic. _That _was all he had to say for himself? A wave of anger struck me and I tried to push it away. No. Grimmjow was right. He - we - should think about things before we make any moves.

_Yeah, __say __that _after _the __sex, __Ichigo._

I still couldn't help the tug at my heart, though. Nothing was set in stone. How could I have got so full of myself, so fucking _sure _that this would be it - that I had won? I had turned something serious - people's _feelings _no less - into a game, a match I had to win. I had been so happy to have won against a young girl. What the fuck sort of person was I?

_The same as ever._

Now, that victory had been taken away from me. She still had a shot, I realised as a lump formed in my throat. What would I do? What would I do if he chose her, as he had done so many times in my dreams? What would I do if I _lost?_

I sat down on the step outside the shop and put my head in my hands. Deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. It was times like these that my mother's words would echo through my head - half comforting me, half tearing me apart - and I found myself struggling to remember her voice. It was more like a whisper, now.

"_Ichigo, it's okay. You don't have to worry, because nothing has happened yet."_

I scrubbed at my eyes defiantly, chuckling morosely when I realised how childish I still was. But that was okay. It would be okay, because she had told me so. I took another long, slow breath and tried to clear my head of all negativity. It didn't necessarily work, but it did allow me to type a quick reply. I knew that I had to set a date to see him again as soon as possible, otherwise my mind wouldn't rest.

_Was good to see you too. Maybe some point soon I could come over? I'll bring take-out. We can talk about stuff properly this time. I'll definitely talk, but you need to too. Let me know._

Not long after I had finished typing and closed my phone case, a large, black car pulled up outside of Urahara Shoten. One of the tinted back windows glided down as I approached - revealing perfectly styled pink locks, framed golden irises and a familiar smirk. I responded in kind as I neared the vehicle.

"You took your time."

"Well do hurry up and get in, then. I need to make a few stops before we head to the hotel."

I did as I was instructed, moving around to the other side of the car and swinging the door open. I waited until I had buckled up and the car had started moving before turning to the man I hadn't seen in around six months, throwing an arm around his shoulders. He simply turned to me with a raised eyebrow before the smirk that I knew he had been trying to repress broke out into full bloom.

Szayel looked so much like his brother when he smiled.

"So, where we going?" My smile faltered a little and I tried not to swallow too loudly. "Yammy's?"

"Of course. Don't worry, you can wait in the car." His smile settled down into one of gentle reassurance, before curving up again as he asked me the customary question. "What might be your poison this evening?"

I allowed the slight tension to fall from my shoulders. I couldn't deal with seeing that man right now. Not yet. I responded with my standard answer.

"Nothing too heavy tonight, Szay. The usual will do for me."

He raised his eyebrow as he studied me. When I first met him, his gaze had scared me. It felt as if he was analysing every muscle in my body, then staring straight into my soul. As far as I knew, that _was_ actually what he was doing, it just didn't freak me out as much any more. When he was done being his usual creepy self, he finally responded.

"Some time soon, we're going to have a blow-out."

My eyes widened. I couldn't help but stare at him. Had he gone mad? I could see him scanning my face with amusement.

"Well, _I _can have a blow-out, then. It might not do you any harm to test the waters, you know. Or is it still too soon?"

I had to look away from him, pulling my gaze to the outside world speeding by. The further we travelled, the more grotty the view became. I felt sick and nervous and excited, all of which scared me. I couldn't think about that shit, not right now. Szayel chuckled quietly to himself and slumped back heavily in his seat.

The car eventually stopped, in a ghetto I knew too well. Szayel swung open the door without a word, making his way to the run-down building we were parked outside. I watched him go, a sick remembrance striking me. I had hoped to never come here again. I told myself it would be okay - this was a good test for me.

Szayel quickly returned, his grin fully intact as he instructed the driver to continue to the hotel. He chucked a nicely packed baggy on my lap and I smiled back. He had the best connections, and his authority in such matters meant he could get ahold of the nicest shit out there. If the heavenly scent currently wafting in the back seat was anything to go by, I was in for a real treat.

"So, what's on the menu for you this evening?"

A sly smirk accompanied my question. Szayel dabbled in pretty much any substance you may have heard of, and more. Of course, he had favourites - one of which I had used to partake in. He had never fallen into its trap, though. I had always been in awe at his restraint in such matters. In any case, if there was something new on the market, something rare, Szayel would always have first dibs.

He waved a bag of white pills in my face with an over-enthusiastic leer.

"New stock."

I didn't particularly want to ask.

* * *

><p>I was lying on a sofa in the luxury complex Szayel was occupying for the next few days. If the extreme comfort and lazy smile I could barely feel on my face were anything to go by, the green was indeed a gold-mine. Szayel sat on the floor by my feet, rolling us both another smoke. The 'new stock' had proved to be an utter disappointment, apparently, but he was more than happy with a simple joint and a bottle of champagne from the mini-bar. I snorted slightly as he poured another glass, offering it to me.<p>

"How are things with my brother, dare I ask?"

"Pfft."

_Oh, __this i__s __good_. I was laughing. I shook my head and Szayel simply watched, analysing. He knew about the break-up and everything. Although half-siblings, they didn't half have a strange relationship. Well, from what I'd seen of their family, the rest were much the same. They were very open, very blunt - especially regarding relationship matters. Szayel was the one person who I could tell absolutely _everything_ to, when it came to his brother.

"Not well, I take it?"

"Did you know he's been fucking Inoue?"

I burst into another spurt of laughter at Szayel's face. The ache, it was there, somewhere beneath the haze, but I paid it no heed. His expression was lax, shock clearly evident, and for some reason I found this _hilarious. _He was always so composed, I guess. He shook his head and took a heavy gulp of champagne.

"Lighter." He barked, and I threw mine to him. "Well, that's quite the development, is it not?"

"If you think that's a development, wait until you hear _this__…" _

I took a sip of the champagne, watching his expression. Gossiping with Szayel was the best.

"I went to his last night. Didn't get home 'til this morning."

"Did you…?"

I nodded, a smug grin pulling at my heavy face.

"He told me he still loves me."

"My, my… Then, what is he doing about the girl?"

I shrugged, the superior feeling slipping. I tried to smile, but it came out forced.

"I don't know. I don't even think _he _knows."

Szayel moved closer to me, resting his elbow on the sofa and looking me in the eye, only moving his gaze away to pass me the elegantly rolled blunt. I smoked as he arranged his next sentence.

"Allow me to put it as such, Ichigo: Surely, if he is in love with you, then she is superfluous?"

I sat up, putting my head in my hands. I knew that it made sense. I took a deep breath, a long toke. Sighed out the smoke. I knew Szayel's words were supposed to be comforting, but as they sunk in, I was filled only with dread. If Grimmjow loved me, like he had said, she _should _have been superfluous. So, why was he confused? Why did he have to think? Surely, by confessing such a thing to me, his decision should have already been made?

Well, that was my high pretty much ruined.

What ifs. What if Grimmjow… _L__oved _Inoue? What if he had developed feelings for her over the few months they had been seeing one another? I mean, there must have been some reason for him to go out with her in the first place. It couldn't all have been her. I felt sick. I was so naïve, so _stupid. _Why hadn't I realised any of this before?

Grimmjow said he loved me, but was it enough? Was I enough for him? Maybe there was a reason he had chosen a woman. Well, girl. I supposed there had always been fundamental issues with a relationship with me, a man. Men and women got married. Men and women had kids. Men could not marry men, at least not where we were living. Men could adopt, but it was a lengthy process with no guarantee of result.

I had wanted that once, you know. Not with a woman. With _him. _He of course had never mentioned either topic, and so neither had I. We were both still young, but I had held hopes for the future, could see it so clearly. Perhaps he had never wanted a future with me. If that were the case, why would he have asked me to move in with him?

_Oh God._

What if he asked her to move in? What would I do, knowing that she would be completely taking my place in his life? Fulfilling my role - no, more than that - doing what I couldn't do? Images hit me in rapid succession. Inoue in my bleach-stained apron, cooking in my kitchen. Inoue sat on my sofa, my blanket wrapped around her, her head resting on his shoulder. Inoue being helped up the stairs by a large hand, a ring gleaming on her finger, a bump barley disguised under a raincoat.

_Would she make him happy?_

My stomach lurched and I ran to the bathroom, not noticing the lack of Szayel to trip over. I barely reached the toilet before I was retching, guts spilling. The taste of bile and nothing more. No, wait. Blood. There was blood. I could smell it. I spat into the bowl and licked my lips. Copper. Placed a shaking, sweaty hand to my nose. Red.

_Remember who you are._

* * *

><p>I woke up on the cold tile bathroom floor. I looked up to see Szayel sat on the toilet seat in front of me, holding a glass.<p>

"My my, someone seemed to have a lot of fun on their own last night." He gestured at me with the glass. "Here, drink this."

I pulled myself up heavily. My mouth tasted like shit. I took the glass and downed it, pulled a face at the bitter taste of soluble aspirin.

"Sorry I disappeared last night, I had an urgent call. You seemed rather occupied, mind you…"

He cocked his pink head at me and I smiled weakly.

"Yeah, sorry man. I guess I kinda put a downer on the night, huh?"

"Why, of course not. There really is no need to apologise, I myself ended up elsewhere. I am merely concerned about you. Would you like me to have words with him?"

I frowned and shook my head. I didn't even want to know how that conversation would go. I rooted in my pocket for my phone and on closer inspection, found it dead. Szayel tapped his foot, waiting for my reply. I sighed. Was it really necessary to talk about this so early in the-

"Shit Szay, what time is it?"

He leisurely glanced at his watch, before standing and brushing himself off.

"Time to get some lunch, dear Ichigo. I believe you said you were all mine, today?" Golden eyes scraped down my form. "Do remove that disgusting shirt, I shall lend you a clean one."

I waited until he had left the room to look down at myself. Dark red stains littered the collar of my faded blue tee. I swallowed heavily, the sight too familiar. If I wasn't careful-

A lump of fabric smacked me in the face. Taking the hint, I quickly changed and followed a retreating Szayel.

* * *

><p>Over lunch we finally talked about reasonable things - Szayel's travels around Europe, how long he was in Karakura for, how our families were. You know, normal human being conversation - a rare thing in his company. As we sat, Szayel munching on a salad, myself shoving burger into my face - I was hungry, okay? - I couldn't help but reflect on our situation.<p>

I had known Szayel for many years now. What was it, three? Four, even? We had met as troubled teens, shared a love for an alternative lifestyle from our fellow students. He had become my brother. I had never imagined, though, in those dark years, that one day we would be sat like this. A civil lunch out. Szayel, a successful researcher. Myself... _Oh __wait._

It's not like I hadn't achieved _anything _in my life. I had to remember that. I was still young, still had plenty of time to make something of myself. It's not like I was going to work at Urahara Shoten for the rest of my days, spending my wages on pot and prescriptions.

_Even if it damn well feels like it._

I could do it. I just didn't know if I could do it without _him._

* * *

><p>Have you ever had a day without your phone? You find yourself constantly worrying - what if someone dies and I can't find out, what if I fall down a rocky ledge with no one else around, what if the ex I'm not over has text back and I can't read it - those sorts of things. So when you're finally home, you run to plug your phone into the power, wait for that glorious light that signifies its return to life - only to be met with bitter disappointment.<p>

_Messages: (0)_

What. The. Fuck.

I didn't hear from Grimmjow until the next evening. He mentioned nothing about the situation, but I had learned to assume that he didn't want to talk about it over text. A few brief messages and we had arranged to meet again. I wondered briefly if this meeting would end the same way as the last, but quickly formed a resolve. I would talk, this time. I would make my point, take a firm stand. I knew what I wanted.

The only problem would be finding a way to make Grimmjow talk. It had always been that way, when we had argued. He was say a few spiteful words and I would respond with a well-structured argument - I always loved a good verbal battle - but he wouldn't fight back. Not with words, in any case. Sometimes, however, his silence was more than enough.

I heaved out a sigh. My chest felt heavy with the emotional load that came with this entire situation, and I once again wondered how it had ended up this way. I had been in a limbo, before - not speaking to Grimmjow, but not having any real closure. Not knowing how I felt, how he felt, whether or not I was doing the right thing. But looking at where I was now, not a lot had changed.

I rubbed my face with my hand. I was so _stupid. _I had just moved myself from one limbo to another.

_But it's not just that, is it Ichigo?_

No. It wasn't just that. See, as much as I tried to pretend that it was just the situation as a whole that was bothering me, that just wasn't true. I always had had an eye for detail, and it just so happened that one particular detail I had learned was bothering me no end. I had found out, whilst texting Grimmjow, that he had set days off from Espada now - for a long while he didn't have any.

So what, I wondered, had he been doing on those days off? It must have been pretty fucking important for it to keep him from suggesting those days for us to meet, let alone for him to ignore me all together. I wanted to ask, ask him what the fuck he was playing at. I didn't, however, want to come across as some crazy stalker ex - where are you? What are you doing? - I wanted to play it cool.

_Pfft. As if you could 'play it cool', Ichigo. Especially when it comes to him._

Then it hit me - a fear, a paranoia so similar to the one I had felt the other night with Szayel - what Grimmjow was doing on his days off. What would keep him from seeing me, from talking to me at all. My brain was telling me that it was a ridiculous assumption, that I needed to calm the fuck down, but my heart was clattering against my chest, screaming at me.

_Get out, get out. This will break you._

_Don't think about this. Don't think about him. Don't think about her._

Inoue.

I left my head and heart to battle. Curled up into the foetal position on my bedroom floor. I felt numb, but not; sad, but unfeeling; an emotional wreck. My breathing escalated as the thoughts gushed inside my head - it was as though I could feel them, feel their weight - an ever-turning tide. I felt so scared.

_Never good enough, never good enough, never good enough._

How could I live without him, my creator?

_You'll never change, you'll always be that person, remember who you are._

How could I keep moving forward without him,

_This isn't getting any better. It never will. You never learn._

My saviour?


	6. The Gift

**_A/N: Hello dear readers. First off, I want to apologise. I'm sorry I haven't replied to any reviews this time around, I've been busy with some rather unpleasant family business and so my time online has been more than limited. It really hasn't been the most pleasant of Christmas'. Secondly, thank you for your continued patronage. I love watching the hit counter go up, I love reading your reviews. Finally, I hope you enjoy this short update until I finish my exams... Wish me luck, I'll need it._**

**_I asked Birgitt-sama to write me a warning for you. She replied with, and I quote, "DEPRESSION AHEAD. Yes depression for you. Buy tissues for all your tears and to wipe up the blood you might spill in your suicide attempt after this chapter. Yes, perfect."_**

**_What can I say? We're going back again..._**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five: The Gift<strong>

_I can't face myself when I wake up_

_And look inside a mirror._

_I'm so ashamed of that thing._

_I suppose I'll let it go_

_'Til I have something more to say for me._

_I'm so afraid of defeat._

_I'm out of reason to believe in me._

_I'm out of trying to get by._

_I'm so afraid of the gift you give me._

_I don't belong here and I'm not well._

_I'm so ashamed of the lie I'm living._

_I'm right on the wrong side of it all._

_Hold me now I need to feel complete,_

_Like I matter to the one I need._

_- The Gift, Seether_

* * *

><p><em>June 3rd 2007, 08:00<em>

Six months.

Six months, it had been. Since this whole _thing_ started.

Quietly locked doors. Muted footsteps. Creaking bedsprings. Silent passion. Agonising heat. Working together, passing silent looks that described, in detail, the activities in which the two would later partake. Stolen kisses in the stock room. It made it more exciting, at first - the fear of getting caught. A secret for the two of them to share. No one had to know. Ichigo didn't want anyone to find out.

Or so he thought.

It had sneaked up on him, over the past six months. An attachment of sorts. The type of attachment Ichigo had only ever felt for one thing - something that was certainly not human. Was this addiction? He supposed it must be. Only addiction could cause this hunger, this need, this pain. Ichigo wanted Grimmjow, he could admit that now. He wanted _all_ of him. However, the older man had never suggested that he was willing to hand himself over.

The secret that Ichigo had held so dear now became a threat. Ichigo realised that, if things were to end now, no one would know. No one would know the pain he was going through. No one would know how much he was hurting. He knew now, oh yes - such a thing would definitely hurt. Grimmjow could do anything he wanted, and Ichigo wouldn't be able to do a thing. It was scary, this attachment. He felt powerless.

Little did he know just how powerless he was.

* * *

><p>The ringing continued.<p>

"You have reached the voicemail service-"

Ichigo pressed the end button, his eyebrows furrowed. He leant back against the cold brick wall of Arrancar. It was rare for Grimmjow to be late for work. In fact, now that Ichigo thought about it, the only times he had ever known Grimmjow to be late was when he had been in bed with Ichigo himself, and had lost track of time. A small smile pulled at his lips at the thought as he pressed the call button once more.

"You have reached the voicemail service of…"

Ichigo waited for the beep patiently.

"Grimmjow… Wake up… You do know you're on the open, right? 07:30 a.m. start? I- oh, never mind, you're here now."

Ichigo stopped his teasing tone as he ended the call. Pushing off the wall casually, a smirk dancing along his features as the older man approached. He whistled lowly at the man's slightly straggly appearance. This was a rare sight indeed.

"Have a few too many beers last night? Hey, wait. You okay?"

As the older man moved past him to unlock the doors, Ichigo noticed his eyes were tinged with red, pale green bags settled underneath them. His face was unshaven, light hairs dusting his jaw. Ichigo moved to try to get a better look at the man's face but, as he did so, the doors unlocked and were pushed open.

"Grimmjow?"

The older man seemed not to hear Ichigo as he walked straight through the store and into the office, before busying himself with the jobs of the morning. Ichigo frowned but went about his routines anyway. Grimmjow was probably just in a bad mood. Everyone was allowed an off day. Ichigo was sure he would come around.

* * *

><p>How wrong he had been.<p>

By the time Ichigo had finished his shift, Grimmjow had not said one word to him. As he walked aimlessly down the street, waiting for a call, he wondered if he had done something wrong. He didn't think so. Yet, something tugged at his insides, whispered into his ear. A watery voice so like his own.

"It's your fault."

_But what did I do?_

"It's you."

_What did I-_

"It's always you."

_What-_

"You'll never be good enough."

Ichigo jumped as his phone began to vibrate in his pocket. Giving his nerves a few seconds to settle, he picked up, noting the private number. He knew what was coming. He kept his voice low, tried to stop it from shaking.

"Yo."

"Kurosaki. I got an offer fer'ya. You'll come round, won'tcha?"

"I'm on my way."

* * *

><p><em>June 10th 2007, 18:00<em>

"Isn't it great, Ichi-chan!"

Neliel was beaming as she threw her arms around the young man. Ichigo - who had been trying to pull on his jacket - sighed, sagging his arms and clenching his fists. It wasn't the woman's enthusiasm that was pissing him off, though - he had discovered that he could never find it in him to get angry with Neliel. He was just frustrated and irritable that he had no idea what was going on with-

"Grimmy has a d-a-t-e!"

Neliel started squeeing and jumping. Ichigo, on the other hand, did not look quite as ecstatic. It felt as though someone had punched clean into his chest, grabbed his heart, and promptly ran off with it. His body instantly went into panic, his muscles tensing, the sick signs of jealousy rising from his stomach to his throat. Neliel finally stopped jumping, grasping Ichigo's shoulders and tilting her head, trying to get a better look at his face.

"You okay, Ichi-chan? You look a little pale…"

Her thumbs massaged his shoulders slightly before she pulled back, glancing at her hands briefly before looking back up - to see Ichigo smiling. His lips were terse, his eyebrows falling from their usual scowl. He couldn't look at Neliel as he spoke, his voice coming out a lot more cheerful than either of them could have expected.

"That's great, it's about time he moved on from Luppi, huh? So… Who is he?"

Neliel's eyebrows furrowed for a little while, her lips forming a small pout. When Ichigo's features didn't falter, she decided to let it be. As the two locked up the shop and left, she answered Ichigo's question, twining her arm around his. Her other hand raised a finger to her lips in a cute façade of thought.

"Hmm… Well, he's quite young. He's been in a few times… Perhaps you know him? He's rather good-looking, brown hair, yay high…"

She gestured with her hand around Ichigo's shoulder, and he rolled his eyes.

"Has he got a name, or?"

"Umm, I think it starts with an 'N'? Oh, no wait! I remember!"

Neiliel jumped up and down excitedly and Ichigo had to hold his breath, his heart rattling maniacally against his ribs, his mind screaming at him to kill the fucker, whoever he was.

"Keigo! That's his name! Ara, I have such a bad memory, Ichi-chan… Maybe it's my age?"

Ichigo was no longer listening. Keigo. Asano Keigo, of all people. He was popular in Ichigo's school, although the orange-haired man had never understood why. As far as he was concerned, he was annoying as fuck. Why on earth would Grimmjow want to associate with, let alone go on a date with, someone like him?

_Why not me?_

Ichigo tuned back into Neliel's monologue at the mention of his name.

"It is kind of strange, though, Ichi-chan… I thought Grimmy had developed a soft spot for _you_."

"W-what?"

Ichigo was in full-on panic mode now, his mind already thinking of a million and one excuses, reasons, ready to deny everything at any cost. He turned his wide eyes to meet Neliel's, only to find them crinkling slightly around the edges, a small smile on her lips as she tried to keep from laughing.

"Oh, don't look so shocked!" She let out a laugh, slapping Ichigo on the shoulder. "He's not all that bad, you know. Although I'm sure you've got a lovely young girlfriend waiting for you at home."

Ichigo began scratching the back of his head, wondering whether he should correct his manger on that assumption.

"Well, actually… I-er…"

"Not that your personal life is any of my business, Ichi-chan."

Neliel's tone was suddenly lower, and Ichigo flicked his eyes to meet hers once more. He was shocked to see how serious she looked. But not as shocked as he was when he realised that behind her eyes, he could see a shining sadness. What was she thinking?

"Just be careful, ne?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Because I would hate to lose either of you…"

* * *

><p><em>19:00 - So, I heard you have a date tonight?<em>

_19:37 - It's not a date._

_19:40 - That's not what everyone else is saying._

_21:00 - You pissed off?_

_21:02 - That would be an understatement._

_21:10 - Why? It's none of your business._

Ichigo hadn't been expecting a response at all, but the response he did get only angered him more. He _hated_ this. He hated not knowing what was going on, what he had done wrong, what Grimmjow was thinking. The fact that the older man seemed to not understand anything about him. Was he being left behind? When he thought about it, he couldn't find it in himself to be surprised.

_I mean, look at me…_

At his own words, Ichigo looked down at his pale, shaking hands. How long had he been like this? How much longer would he last? Even as he thought such things, he found himself walking to a familiar part of town - where litter lined the streets, people asked in broken whispers for change, where the scent of filth was thick and heavy - where Yammy lived.

He climbed the rotting stairs that led to the giant's house. Resigned himself to his fate. Nothing was getting better. The only person who gave him hope had denied his existence. This was the only future he could see, and so he walked towards it. Reached with sweating palms for the rusty door knob.

"I'm coming in."

The sight no longer shocked Ichigo. Yammy sat on a chair that looked like it shouldn't hold his weight, at a table lined with bags and razors and pills and needles. Three barely clothed women were curled up on the filthy mattress in the corner of the room, occasionally groaning or making quiet gurgling noises. A small dog curled up beside them, twitching as if dreaming. Ichigo dragged his eyes away from them - nausea creeping up on him slowly - to face the huge man. Yammy turned towards him, a smile on his fucked-up face, a baggy swinging between his fingers.

"You're running outta time, kid."

Ichigo could only nod.

* * *

><p><em>June 17th 2007, 23:00<em>

"What the fuck're you doin' here?"

The gruff voice was more confused than angry, but Ichigo still flinched. He stood, the rain pelting down on his already-soaked shoulders, the first rumblings of thunder filling the heavy air. He was shaking. His puffy eyes dropped to the ground, his mouth opening to speak. Nothing came.

A lithe figure pulled Grimmjow out of the doorway with an exasperated look. The older man huffed, settling himself against the hallway wall, out of sight.

"He is here for me, oh idiot brother of mine."

When Ichigo didn't move, Szayel stepped out, pushing his hair behind his ears, curling his bare toes against the chilled rivers that ran down the pavement. He approached Ichigo slowly, put a hand on his shoulder, tilted his pink head to try to meet amber eyes. Ichigo licked his cracked lips, pressed his soggy sleeve to his nose.

"What on earth are you doing here, Ichigo?"

"Szay… You got any?"

Ichigo's eyes raised to meet Szayel's. Deep purple rings lay underneath them. Szayel knew that although the lank, orange hair covered it at that moment, his friend would have at least a large bandage gracing his forhead. It had only been three days, after all. Long fingers pushed up rain-splattered glasses, hiding a blank expression. Szayel hushed his voice to match Ichigo's. There was only so much he could do.

"Is Yammy out?"

Ichigo shook his head, small droplets flying from the tips of darkened orange hair before he placed a hand against his forehead, as if to still himself, his eyes scrunching in pain.

"He, uh… Won't give me any more. He told me not to go near him for a while. I owe him. I owe him big, now..."

A pink head nodded in understanding.

"How much have you-"

"PLEASE, Szay… I… I can't. N-not today."

"Ichigo, I think you should go home. You need to sleep."

_Or to the hospital_, bickered a small voice in Szayel's head. Alas, he knew he had to keep quiet.

"I CAN'T! I can't go home, okay?"

Szayel frowned. He had not seen his friend quite like this before. The young man was shaking, and Szayel knew it wasn't just from the cold - although if he didn't get dry and warm soon he would definitely end up with at least mild hypothermia, on top of his current injury. Ichigo's eyes were scrunched up, his arms wrapped around himself fiercely, his fingers clawing at the soaked fabric of his hoody.

"Szay, I… I skipped out. I didn't go today. I've never done that before. What am I supposed to do? I should go see her. I couldn't. I couldn't show her my face - what I've become. But... I'll go see her right now. That'll make it better, right? Then I'll head to Yammy's and-"

"No."

"W-what?"

Szayel grabbed Ichigo by the arm, his hand fitting perfectly around his bicep, and pulled him towards the house.

"You most certainly will not go there now. Not like this. You will stay here. I shall phone your father."

"B-but I-"

"I will not take no for an answer, Ichigo."

Grimmjow was shocked to see his younger half-brother storming back into the house, anger pasted over his features. He was even more shocked to see Ichigo being pulled behind him, resembling a wet lump of fabric. The two quickly climbed the stairs, out of sight, Szayel whispering something fiercely.

* * *

><p>"Good evening, might this be Mr. Kurosaki? This is Granz. Yes. Yes, do not worry. He is quite fine, I can assure you. A little cold, nothing more. Yes. I shall do. Well then, goodnight."<p>

"What was all that about?"

No quicker had Szayel set down the phone than he found Grimmjow stood next to him, his voice low, anger and confusion radiating off him in waves. He pushed up his glasses.

"Should you not ask him yourself?"

On second thought - considering Ichigo's state - Szayel decided to continue. He could tell his brother at least something, couldn't he? He knew even he would not be able to keep absolutely everything to himself.

"Today is June the seventeenth, is it not? It is the anniversary of Kurosaki Masaki's death. The eighth year, if I am not mistaken."

"Kurosaki Masaki?"

"My, my. You really don't know anything about the boy, do you? You really should consider learning a little about people before you get involved with them. Masaki-san was Ichigo's mother."

Blue eyes widened before settling into a scowl.

"Ichigo and I aren't 'involved'. We work together."

A heavy sigh.

"Ah, of course." Golden eyes narrowed as they analysed the older man's face. "Just make sure that you do not break him any further."

* * *

><p><em>June 25th 2007, 09:00<em>

"Have you any idea why we have called you in today, Ichigo-san?"

The young man flinched at the woman's hard voice, the formal use of his full first name. He couldn't look at her, look at either of them. He nodded at the floor.

"We are hereby relieving you of your position at Arrancar Incorporated, due to theft of store property and attempted cash theft. This is to be enforced immediately."

Ichigo nodded again. He cared, he knew he did, deep down. It was difficult to stop the stream of words that wanted to escape his lips, difficult to keep them inside his head. He sniffed, rubbing his nose, looked towards the door. Looked anywhere but at the woman he had become so close to, who had taken him under her wing, who he had grown to care for deeply. Who sat opposite him across a desk, her arms folded, her sea green hair falling across her tense shoulders.

Anywhere but at the man who stood in the corner, his gaze finding interest in a stain on the wall, his hands in his pockets. The man whom Ichigo had become closer to, grown to care for more than anyone. The man who had not spoken two words to him in person for nearly three weeks. The man who was the cause of the tear in his heart - the destroyer of his sanity.

After all, it was easier to blame him.

"You are extremely lucky we are not pressing charges, as we are going against company policy by doing so. But Grimmjow and I have discussed this, and have decided to let it pass, based on your out-of-character behaviour."

Ichigo smirked, letting out a soft 'ha'. What did these people know about him, really? They didn't know him at all. They weren't even interested in finding out. Neliel just saw him as another employee, not as an individual person. Grimmjow just saw him as another fuck, not someone to care for. He knew it now, deep down. Humans were worthless.

Himself, more than anyone.

"This is not a laughing matter, Ichigo."

Neliel snapped, her eyes wide with what Ichigo could have sworn was worry, had he not known better. Was she scared?

"But it is, Nel…"

Ichigo rose from his seat, not noticing the way it caused Neliel to flinch, or Grimmjow to move away from the wall to stand, his hands retreating out of his pockets, clenching. The young man grasped the door handle, looked over his shoulder with puffy eyes and large pupils at his now ex-manager.

"When exactly have you known my character?"

* * *

><p><em>July 15th 2007, 01:45<em>

A large hand shook, holding the telephone to an ear. The message cut out, and a thumb pressed a button to hear it repeat for the third time. It was hard to make out - the sounds of heavy rain and thunder, gasping breaths, sobs. A broken boy, crying out for the attention that he had deserved all along.

As the automated voice retold the time and date of the message, Grimmjow grabbed his keys, running down the stairs as fast as his powerful legs would take him, wrenching the car door open.

This couldn't be happening.

_"Grimmjow… Will you listen to me, just this once? I need to tell you. I don't know what I'm doing any more. I wanted to know why you didn't want me any more, you know? I wanted to… But it's so obvious, isn't it? This isn't your fault. It was always me. It's always me. Broken people break people, did you know that? But I couldn't break you, not like I broke everything else. Because you were different._

_"I really thought, for a few months... The few months you thought you wanted me... That I could get better. I wanted to get better for you, Grimmjow. Ha… But I can't. I can't be fixed. Not by you, not by me, not by anyone. I tried. You'll believe me, won't you? But I couldn't get out. Not until now, not until I finally got up the guts._

_"I'm giving up, Grimmjow. I don't want a life like this. I can't turn eighteen. I don't deserve all of those years. I want to see her again, you understand, right? I've lived half of my life without her, now. That's enough. Maybe if I find her, she can fix me. But... I couldn't go, not without telling you this._

_"I thought we could have been great. I really did. How stupid is that? But I know now, I know I'll never be good enough. Not for you, not for anyone. This disease has eaten me up. I don't know who I am. So I won't be anyone._

_"I really… I really loved you. You know that, right?_

_"I… I'm going, now._

_"Good-bye, Grimm."_

As soon as the message ended, Grimmjow flicked through his contacts, trying to keep his eyes on the road as he sped down the soaked streets, pressing the call button. The rain was still pelting down, and Grimmjow only hoped he wasn't too late. What would he do if-

"Yes, dear brother? Is there any reason why you might be calling me at such an ungodly hour?"

"I need you to tell me what the fuck is wrong with Ichigo."

"Ichigo...? But you haven't spoken to him in weeks. Don't tell me you've suddenly-"

"Cut the crap, Szayel. That shit doesn't matter right now. I need to know what the fuck is going on, it's urgent."

"My, my. I never did understand you. Nor do I understand how you could not know already, considering how obvious it is."

"What-"

"Well, I suppose I can tell you, seen as Ichigo has been off the map for so long…"

Szayel sounded sleepy but was, as ever, ready to provide any collected information. Especially regarding this.

"Anxiety, tremors, weight loss, lack of appetite, a constant runny nose, lack of funds leading to a change in morals, most likely in regards to… Theft. Do you know, dear brother? The reason why I pursued Ichigo, why I forced my friendship upon him? Of course you don't. You are far too oblivious to the obvious."

But Grimmjow was no longer listening. His pulse quickened as he confirmed each aspect of Szayel's list to Ichigo. The way his hands always shook, the way he scrubbed his nose against his sleeve, his sniffling, the fragile body Grimmjow had attributed to being natural… What on earth would make Ichigo steal from a job he had appeared to enjoy? Had Grimmjow been wrong in assuming his personality had simply been an act?

"Cocaine."

The car squealed to a halt.

* * *

><p>Ichigo hung up the phone.<p>

He raised his face to the sky, raised his arms high either side of him, palms up - catching the cold drops of water as the clouds fell - revelled in the feeling. This was it. He took a deep breath, smelt the rain mix with the scent of the town that he had grown up in, spent his life in. This was it.

Time to say good-bye.

His throat was still burning from the crying, his eyes still sore, his nose raw from the gram upon gram upon gram he had forced into his system, hoping his body would give up. It never did, though. It felt as though it lived separately from him, now. Separately from his foggy mind, thriving only off the hunger. How long had it been, since this had all started?

This was no way to live.

So, Ichigo wouldn't.

He looked down at the swirling depths, so far beneath his feet. He had always been scared of heights, since his mother's death. But now, it was almost comforting. The water appeared black under the star-less sky, the only light coming from the few orange street-lamps, dancing over ripples. There was a soft breeze that led Ichigo to believe that he might fly, should he let go of everything.

Ichigo wondered fleetingly if Grimmjow would listen to his message. For the most part he didn't believe the older man would - why would he, when he had ignored his existence for so long? - and Ichigo found a strange comfort in that. It had been selfish, to call him. But then again, Ichigo had always been self-absorbed.

_Let me just have this, my last selfish act._

Ichigo raised his right foot slightly, moving forwards. Held his breath, closed his eyes.

He didn't hear the squeal of brakes. He did, however, feel the painful grip of someone's hand around his ankle. His eyes shot down, going wide when he saw blue hair, a heaving back - Grimmjow was bent over, breathing heavily, his hand tight around the bony ankle of Ichigo's left leg.

"Ichigo."

Ichigo quickly recovered from the shock, ignoring the pain in his ankle and trying to kick the older man off.

"Leave me alone, Grimmjow."

The words weren't angry, weren't spat out as Grimmjow had imagined. They had just tumbled from Ichigo's lips, calm and torturous.

"No."

Ichigo sighed, looked down at the man again. This time their eyes met, and Grimmjow could suddenly see it. He had been so fucking stupid, how could he not have realised before? Ichigo's pupils were huge, his hands shaking, his frame thinner than it had been three weeks ago, when Grimmjow had last seen the young man. Azure eyes narrowed, eyebrows pulling into a frown.

"Why not?" Ichigo asked, his tone still calm, eerie almost. "It's been easy enough for you so far."

Grimmjow knew he deserved that. But he couldn't. He couldn't let go.

"Ichigo, get down…"

"NO!"

Ichigo's voice was raw, desperate. He was bent over now, one arm across his stomach, clawing at his own flesh through the soaked t-shirt, his other hand gripping the railing upon which he crouched. His breath was getting shorter, words more difficult to get out. His head spun, his vision blurring. Sick. He was going to be sick.

"I've had enough, Grimmjow! Enough… Just let me go…"

Grimmjow's grip loosened, his hand falling away from Ichigo's ankle.

Ichigo was still bent over, his breath heaving in his chest, his eyes wide and glazed with tears. He squeezed them shut, salty trails running down his pale cheeks, and held onto himself tighter. Grimmjow moved closer - noticing instantly the way Ichigo's body was shaking violently - moved to place a hand on the younger man's shoulder.

Then he was falling.

Ichigo landed with a heavy thump, safely in Grimmjow's arms. The older man quickly checked him over - he was unconscious, pale, blood coating the bottom half of his face - but he was alive. At the discovery of a thundering pulse, Grimmjow's grip on his wrist loosened, a large hand moving to trace slack features.

"I'm never letting you fall. Not again."

* * *

><p>Everything was white.<p>

Ichigo blinked a few times and shifted where he lay, noticing immediately that he was aching more than he ever had in his life. A sterile, familiar smell struck him and he felt the sudden urge to vomit. He sat up, crying out at the pain it caused him, relieved when a figure appeared at his side, supporting him, offering him a bowl just in time.

Blood.

He was in hospital.

"You're awake then, I take it."

Ichigo stiffened at the gruff voice. He watched as Grimmjow walked across the white room, cleaning up the bowl without an even slightly disgusted impression. The older man looked tired, for the first time betraying the six years he had on Ichigo. His hair was unstyled, hanging in his eyes, and was he wearing pyjamas? Ichigo tried to speak, the words coming out croaky, his throat burning horrifically.

"What are you doing here?"

He heard the man make a soft 'hmm' in his throat before he walked back towards the bed, gesturing for Ichigo to move slightly, offering the younger man a glass of water. He sat in front of Ichigo, scanning his face silently as he gulped down the cool liquid. When Ichigo had finished, he stared into the bottom of his empty glass, beginning to feel rather uncomfortable. He watched as Grimmjow licked his lips, felt something flicker within him.

"Well, after I sped around town last night in the pouring rain looking for you, stopped you from jumping off a bridge and then brought you to hospital, I kinda wanted to stick around to make sure you'd be okay, y'know?"

Ichigo couldn't look at the older man. He stared down at the coarse bed sheets, his eyes filling with tears. It came back, slowly. The pain. The realisation of what he had done - an irreparable impulse. Images flitted through his head - how beautiful Grimmjow looked driving, how Grimmjow looked on top of Ichigo, flushed and sweating with eyes full of unknown emotions - how Grimmjow looked when he was pretending that Ichigo didn't exist. A sick, quick slideshow. Why? Why had Grimmjow stopped him?

Why had he _saved_ him?

Ichigo flinched slightly as he felt a finger hook under his chin, lift his head up. The tears fell, then. They wouldn't stop. He wanted to apologise, but he didn't. He wanted to lecture the man, but he couldn't. It wasn't Grimmjow's fault. He felt a thumb swipe away a tear, felt the bed creak as Grimmjow moved closer, placing the empty glass on the side table before resting his forehead gently against Ichigo's. Felt the warmth he had come to associate with the man as a large arm wrapped around him, pulled him softly against a hard chest.

This was what he had craved, all this time. As the older man rocked back and forth, occasionally kissing Ichigo's temple or the top of his head, Ichigo wept. All of the unspoken things he had longed to say crept up to his lips, but he swallowed them back with the lump in his throat. He finally brought a hand up to clench at Grimmjow's shirt, holding on to him as if for dear life.

The life he would no longer have, had it not been for this man.

"Ichigo…"

The man whispered close to his ear, and Ichigo could have melted. He relaxed a little more, nuzzling his face in the soft fabric it lay on, taking long breaths to appreciate the scent of the man he had missed so much. He wondered how long it would last, this time. How long would it be before Grimmjow turned away from him, leaving him cold.

"… I'm so sorry."

Ichigo was surprised to feel soft drops on his shoulder. The man's voice did not crack or waver, but as Ichigo pushed away to look at the man's face, he could see a solitary tear travelling down a tired cheek. He lifted a thin finger to wipe it away, feeling the man's stubble, before he mimicked Grimmjow's earlier gesture, resting his forehead against the other's. Crying did not suit the man, and it tore at Ichigo's heart.

Why was he apologising?

"I thought, that by ignoring you, you'd just forget me and move on… That's what was supposed to happen. It… Wasn't easy, you know. Seeing you every day, working with you, not being able to talk to you or touch you-"

"So why did you do it?"

The words tumbled softly from Ichigo's lips. His head was fuzzy, the words filtering into his ear barely making sense. What did this mean? Why would Grimmjow do something like that, on purpose no less?

"I break people, Ichigo. I mean, look at Luppi. Look at everyone else who let me into their lives. Look at them! I don't want… I won't let that happen to you!"

"I was broken way before you came along, Grimmjow."

Grimmjow was nodding softly, his gaze on his own hands, which were now settled over Ichigo's knees. Ichigo's eyes were drooping slowly.

"I didn't know, you know that right? I didn't know anything. About your life, about the drugs. I was so wrapped up in myself, trying to keep you at arm's length. I'm sorry Ichigo, I'm so sorry-"

Ichigo crawled slowly closer to the older man. Ran a hand through his hair, held on to the back of his neck. When the older man looked up at him, those deep blue eyes haunted and pleading, Ichigo moved forwards, pressing his lips softly to the other's. Grimmjow's hands moved, one wrapping around Ichigo's side, the other gripping his wrist almost painfully. When Ichigo moved away, Grimmjow pushed forwards, connecting their lips once more.

"I love you, Ichigo."

It was as if, in that moment, Ichigo's heart started to beat anew. A warm pounding in his chest.

"I'm not gonna lose you to something like this."

Hot lips were on his own, soft and comforting and demanding nothing but forgiveness.

"D'you think you can give it another shot, getting better? For me?"

Ichigo nodded tiredly as Grimmjow laid him back down on the bed, moving him onto his side carefully, pulling the covers over them both. A large arm found its way beneath Ichigo's hospital robe to curl around the young man, placing a hand over his heart. Grimmjow kissed the back of Ichigo's neck lightly, and the young man slowly drifted into genuine sleep_._


	7. Recovery

**_A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR... Kind of. So, my exams aren't officially over yet, but the worst is over, and I only have one left. In celebration, have the title chapter of this fic, and the halfway marker. I do hope you enjoy it! _  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six: Recovery<strong>

_Casually I confide,_

_Awake and paralysed._

_Forever in one word._

_Forever is the longest time._

_It's the only cure._

_I'm not sure I'll survive._

_This is not a new game. _

_So don't think that you know._

_Promise me, you will not ever leave._

-_Recovery, Funeral For A Friend_

* * *

><p>I glared at my finger as it shook, hovering over the buzzer.<p>

Taking a deep breath, I pushed the cold metal button firmly, the plastic bags straining in my other hand.

"Yeah?"

A small smirk pulled at my lips as I replied. An old joke.

"Herro, you wan derivery?"

I was rewarded with a deep chuckle and the humming of the door, allowing me entrance. As I reached the top of the stairs, I saw the door to the flat was propped open. I pushed through, kicking it shut behind me before removing my shoes - a familiar routine. Unfortunately, with that routine, followed familiar words. Words I should not have spoken.

"Tadaima."

Silence.

I could only hope that he hadn't heard as I left the hallway, shifting the bags so they were back in both hands. Where was he? I scanned the living room to find it empty.

"Okaeri."

I turned around, trying not to gape at him as I moved to join him in the kitchen, placing down the bags of Chinese takeout and beer on the counter. He smirked at me as he grabbed plates from the cupboard. We stood side-by-side in that tiny kitchen, loaded our plates, popped open beers. If I had closed my eyes, I might have convinced myself that nothing had changed.

We watched television as we ate, flicked through the various reruns, talked about nothing in particular - work, mostly. I might have been completely relaxed, had one thing not niggled at my nerves, put me on edge. I found myself not wanting the dreaded topic of 'us' to rear its head. We finished our food. Grimmjow belched loudly. I laughed, caught his eye as he grinned. He took another swig from his second beer. Turned off the television.

_Well, here goes nothing._

Silence.

I took a deep breath as I tried to read his expression. He wanted to talk, didn't he? So why wasn't he saying anything? I started to wonder if he had even thought this far ahead - I had. I sighed as I realised that, as ever, I would have to take the first step. I prompted him.

"So. Have you, y'know... Been thinking?"

Grimmjow looked down at his hands, swilled the beer in his bottle.

"Yeah."

My heart was thundering in my chest.

_What does he want, what does he want, what does he want?_

"What do you want to do?"

He remained quiet, and so I did too. I had to be patient. I needed to hear his answer. He blew out a breath.

"I don't know. You?"

I knew I shouldn't have been surprised. Yet, I was. To me, this was pretty fucking important. He had said that he needed time to think and I had given it to him. I had put so much thought into what I wanted, if I was sure. I had come here today with a resolve I had put a lot of effort into building. And here was Grimmjow, as unwilling to talk as ever.

Did he even care what happened now?

_Fuck this._

I knew what I needed to do. I needed to tell him exactly how I felt, exactly what I had been thinking. Exactly what I wanted. Tell him the truth. Unload all of it onto him, see how he reacted - if he felt the same. I tried to form sentences in my head, but they wouldn't come. The thoughts just swirled, around and around, escaping when I tried to grasp them, put them into words.

I knew I needed to stay calm. Be rational. Not get over-emotional. But even as I thought this, I could feel it. The stinging in my sinuses. The burning behind my eyes. I rubbed them, took a deep breath, tried to calm myself. Sat up straight. Looked Grimmjow in the eye. I was determined.

"I want to give things another try."

I watched as his eyes widened, tried to steel myself against the fear. It was difficult, though. As cocky as it sounds, part of me had actually thought this would go reasonably well - a mutual confession, a long talk about how we could make it work, maybe some sex - perhaps I was just clinging to that ideal, in order to push myself further. Such an ideal was soon shattered, however, as he opened his mouth to speak.

"You think that's a good idea?"

It hurt. I should have expected this. How many times, I wondered, would I think that? How long would I continue to put hope in this man? How many times would he act against my expectations? No. I couldn't think like that. I had decided. This time, I would not give up. I wasn't going down without a fight.

"What's there to think about? I don't get it. If you love me - which, if I remember correctly, is what you said - why would you not want to be with me?"

I tried to stay calm, I really did. But I could feel myself welling up with frustration. I was sick of not understanding him - no. I was sick of him not letting me understand him. He was just looking at his hands, his expression dark. I hated it.

"Because I hold you back."

_Not this again._

Was it just me, or was this the same old shit as ever? Alas, he continued.

"I want you to do something with your life, Ichigo, and if you stay in Karakura - stay with me - that ain't gonna happen."

I threaded my fingers through my hair, tempted to pull it right out. Took a deep breath. Tried to hide the exasperation in my voice, without much avail.

"Then why don't you move with me?"

I figured it was a fair enough suggestion. Although, this was not the first time I had asked. We had discussed this many times, during our relationship - moving away. But he had always had an excuse, a reason not to. Duties at work, family priorities. This time, as Grimmjow opened his mouth, I knew what answer to expect.

"I can't do that."

_Ding ding ding, congratulations! The grand prize goes to… Kurosaki Ichigo!_

"Look, Ichi. I'm gonna be honest here. I don't want to start things up again. I don't want to drag it all up, start all over again, just for it to end the same way. Can you really see us getting out of this fuckin' cycle we've put ourselves in?"

_Yes._

"Maybe if you tried a little harder."

I watched as he sighed. It was getting more difficult to hold in, the frustration. I was angry, but at the same time could feel a numbness rising. I wished it to hurry, take me over. I didn't want to get hysterical. Not in front of him. Not like this. I wanted to show him I'd changed. I needed to show him it could be different. But honestly, deep down, I felt like a child throwing a tantrum. I wanted to get my way.

"Ichi, I… Believe it or not, us breaking up was fucking hard on me, too. I don't want it to end again, not like it did. I don't want it to hurt again."

"It already fucking hurts! So why isn't it worth the risk? Even for just a little happiness..."

I really hoped he wasn't looking at me, because despite my soft, careful blinking, tears were beginning to roll down my cheeks. I didn't want to rub them away, alert him to them. I could see he cared about me, even if he wasn't especially good at expressing it. So why, why wouldn't he just let us have another chance? I heard him sigh heavily.

"What if we just work at what we have now? I mean, we've only just started talking again after, what, a month? Maybe we should work at being friends again first and then see-"

"No."

I had given up all composure. I rubbed my sleeve against my cheeks. Sniffed. Laughed a little - a dark laugh I had started using God-knows-when. Since it ended, I supposed. Or perhaps even before then. I had very hazy memories of my past. I looked up at Grimmjow. His face betrayed nothing, as ever, his eyes following my sleeve as I wiped my nose on it. For a second his eyes flickered, and I wondered what he was thinking.

"I can't do that, Grimmjow. I can't just be your friend. I realised it a long time ago. You want to know why? I can't watch you move on. I can't see you with other people. It hurts too much. If I can't have you, I need to find the strength to walk away. I know it sounds harsh, you probably think I'm being ridiculous, right? But I'm just being honest. I can't do that."

"So what, I've got to choose between being with you again, or not having you in my life at all?"

The laughter was back. Oh Lord, I didn't mean to come off so deranged. I guess the situation was really taking its toll on my sanity. I just wanted to feel like I mattered, was that so difficult a request? I wanted him to want me, to need me, like I did him. I wanted to be the most important person to him, like he was to me. I wanted him to choose me, always.

I spurted out a retort. Covered the hurt with anger.

"Is that really such a hard decision?"

I glared at him as his eyes narrowed, continued.

"Y'know, I feel as though I've grown up a lot, since we broke up. But I've realised, I'm still not strong enough to stay by your side and not have you. I'm not ashamed to admit that. I feel I should still be allowed to be a little childish, a little selfish. I mean, what have we got to lose, Grimm? I've already lost everything I-"

"How can you say that? You haven't lost everything!"

He was getting angry now, his voice raising a little, and I felt a bizarre spark of electricity filter over my skin. Was I that pathetic? Pathetic enough that any emotion would do, as long as it is came from him? I tried not to sigh dramatically. Even after all these years, he didn't seem to understand.

I didn't want to have to tell him, but the words formed behind my lips anyway. Things I had always wanted to say. Things that shouldn't be said. I didn't want him to know how weak I was, yet I did. I wanted him to know that I needed him. Because despite my foggy memories, my mind's reluctance to remember, I still knew one fact.

If it had not been for Grimmjow, I would not be here today.

_Am I losing my mind?_

"I lost _you, _Grimm! And as hard as it may be for you to believe, for years you _were_ my everything. What do I have if I don't have you? Oh, let's see… A fucking shit job, a few friends who have either already moved away or are going to. How am I supposed to move away and make something of myself when I don't even feel like I'm really alive? I've been floating through these last few months, dosed out of my mind, wasted beyond belief, not sleeping, not eating, not living. Because I don't know _how_. Not without you. You're always talking about how you're scared of holding me back, but I don't understand why. Are you honestly trying to tell me that you have no idea what you've done for me?"

His eyes were solid on mine, his voice hard.

"No, I don't."

Utter disbelief. Was he being serious?

"YOU SAVED MY FUCKING _LIFE!_"

I was standing now, breathing heavily, my fists clenched at my side. Was I really that unimportant, now? Was he going to deny it? I couldn't remember that night, that morning. I could only remember the whispered words. The months upon months of an endless struggle. Hospitals, doctors, therapists, wary looks from my father - I had done it all, not for myself, but for Grimmjow. I looked down at my hands as I continued, my voice wavering against my will.

"But… But there's more than just that. If I didn't have you, I would never have moved here. I would never have found a place where I really felt like I belonged. This was the first place that felt like it was mine, _ours. _That's the thing, you see…" Tears began streaming down my face. I didn't try to hide them. I didn't wipe them away. I just let them fall. If this was the end, I needed to show him everything, show him my honest emotions. I needed him to know how I felt.

"To me, Grimmjow, you are home."

He wasn't looking at me. I wanted him to look at me, _see_ me. I didn't want to be that kid, not again. Not the kid that he kept at arm's length and vice versa. So much had happened since that time. So why did I feel like this? An awful nostalgia. I needed to tell him. Tell him what I couldn't, all those years ago. Show him I was stronger now, by revealing my very weakness. It was an irony I could only hope would work.

"You know what? I feel like I did when we started seeing each other. I'm scared, nervous, but so fucking in love… I hate not knowing what's going on. I mean, you could reject me right now and no one would have a fucking clue. You could leave at any minute and no one would know what I had been through."

It was so strange, the numbness I felt, then. Saccharine. Compared to how hysterical I felt - my stomach twisting in turmoil, my heart racing at the rejection - my mind felt empty. The few thoughts that flitted about were oddly calm; thoughts I would never have imagined myself having. Nothing felt right. The tears that fell no longer fell from hysteria, but from exhaustion. I was so tired. Tired of fighting this losing battle.

Still standing, I flattened my palms against my closed eyes, took a deep breath. I knew what I had to do, now. I would follow the advice of my own alien thoughts. I had to walk away. It was quite apparent, now, what it was that Grimmjow wanted - and it certainly wasn't me. I realised now that _he_ had always been right.

I'd never be good enough.

"I'm gonna go wash my face."

* * *

><p>I splashed myself repeatedly with the cold water. Rubbed my eyes. Looked up at my own reflection in the bathroom mirror. This was it. I realised that no matter how determined I had been to get him back, if Grimmjow no longer wanted me, then any resolution of sorts would be nothing but false. Worthless. I had to walk away with the knowledge that I had at least tried. I had managed to put my feelings out there.<p>

Now, I just had to work out how to move on.

Returning to the living room, I grabbed my jacket before taking one last look at the man I had loved for so many years. How was I going to fill the void that his absence would create in my life? Would I have to resort to the same tactics as last time? I knew it was unhealthy. I knew I shouldn't, but I honestly couldn't think of another way. I supposed, at the end of the day, I really had learned nothing.

Grimmjow sat in the exact same state that I had left him in. His linked fingers hid what I was sure was a down-turned mouth. His eyebrows were still pulled together, although he didn't look angry. His complexion was rather pale and, now that I looked a little closer, I could see that he must not have shaved for a while. I felt something pang in my chest. A feeling I had grown so used to over the last few years. I knew what it meant. _He_ was trying to make me remember something.

Why did this look so familiar?

The fact that I couldn't put my finger on it pissed me off no end, and it was only once Grimmjow raised his eyes to meet mine that I realised just how long I must have been staring at him. His eyes looked different now, almost dull, and they widened as I chucked my jacket over my shoulder, said farewell in a quiet voice.

"I'm going, now. Good-bye, Grimm."

I had barely reached the door before an arm flew forwards, a large hand slamming against it, keeping it closed. I stood, frozen, only able to look at that hand. My brain couldn't quite process what was happening. What was going on? I could hear Grimmjow breathing behind me, heavy breaths, as if he had partaken in some sort of rigourous exercise. I still couldn't move.

The hand left my field of vision. I felt a rough grip on both of my shoulders, turning me around, slamming me against the door. I looked down at Grimmjow. He was bent over, his fingers digging into my shoulders painfully, his back heaving. I was about to ask what the fuck he was doing when his eyes raised to mine.

Why did he look like he was in pain?

Grimmjow licked his lips and I felt a few stray tears roll down my cheek. He slowly loosened his hold on me - my arms feeling too light as his hands left them - raised a hand to wipe my cheek. Then his forehead was on mine, his other hand dropping to circle my waist. He whispered against my lips. I felt it, more than I heard it.

"Do you really want to give this another go?"

I nodded, a small spark of hope lighting my thoughts. I had to be sure, though. I had to be sure he couldn't take it back.

"Only if you really want to. If you really want me."

Grimmjow had been so cynical before, of course I was wary. If he was suggesting what I thought he was, then he must have had a full one-eighty change of heart. What had changed, in the last five minutes? I couldn't think of anything notable, and so doubt began to nag at me. What was going on?

"Of course I want ya, Ichi. I... It's always…"

He sighed a little and I couldn't help but chuckle internally at his attempt to articulate exactly how he felt. He had never been good with words. His eyes raised to mine and held their position. My heart picked up its pace.

"It's you. Y'know, I realised something, recently. I'm pretty sure I'll always want ya…"

I felt my eyes widen just a little. I could see it, in those azure depths. Grimmjow wasn't lying. This was the truth. I couldn't quite digest it, the gravity of his confession. Grimmjow had never talked about forever. He had hardly talked about the not-too-distant future. Yet here he was, telling me that he thought he would always want me.

_Could someone pinch me?_

Just one thing was bothering me.

"But do you want to _be_ with me? I don't want you to do this just to pacify me."

"What, to shut you up?"

His face broke out into a grin and my heart lifted in my chest. This was how Grimmjow should look, always. There was no other expression more suited to the man. This was how things should be, between him and I. Not the harsh trial that had been the last few months. I nodded silently, still waiting for an answer.

"As if that'd work."

Smiling lips pressed against mine and I couldn't help but mimic the gesture. They came and left - small, playful, and dare I say it - _happy _kisses. It sank in, slowly. This was real. This was real. Elation fought off the doubt and worry inside me, if only for a little while. I pushed myself up to Grimmjow and the arm around my waist pulled me in closer, the playful kisses taking a turn for the serious as I grabbed the back of Grimmjows head, pulling his mouth into my own.

Grimmjow was mine again.

I was pushed back into the door heavily, Grimmjow pinning me to it, his thigh pressing between my open legs, his tongue exploring my mouth as if it had never been there before. The tears continued to fall - not from frustration or anger or hurt as they had been - but from relief. It was over. The fight was over. I felt a smirk tilt my lips as Grimmjow's mouth left mine to taste my neck, his hands holding my hips possessively.

I had won.

Grimmjow pulled back, seemingly with reluctance, his hands leaving my hips to cup my jaw. His thumbs stroked along my cheekbones, his eyes searching mine. I held his gaze. He opened his mouth.

"You sure?"

I had been sure long ago. Now, I just needed him to be.

"Are you?"

He nodded slightly before leaning into me, his tongue darting across my bottom lip before he stole a quick kiss. The words that fell from his lips were low, teasing, arousing.

"_Fuck yeah."_

He grabbed me by the wrist, dragging me away from the door so he could open it. Barked out one word.

"Bed."

I could only nod as Grimmjow led me to the bedroom, led me to the edge of the bed. There, he stripped me - not hurriedly, as he used to, in our moments of passion - slowly, carefully, his eyes taking in every new part of my body as it was revealed. I have never been particularly ashamed of my body, but the way his eyes roamed my form made me want to cover myself. It felt as though he might eat my soul.

He left me in my boxers and began to undress himself. I watched him, the same way he had watched me. Buttons popped from buttonholes, thick leather fell from loops, fabric pulled away, revealing that most delicious skin. Was this how he had felt, as he had undressed me? I wanted to touch Grimmjow, never stop touching him, absorb him into myself so that he was a part of me, so that he could never leave. It was scary.

Grimmjow flicked the light off, opened the covers. I could barely see him tilt his head in the dark, gesturing for me to get in. I did as I was indirectly told, the freezing cold of the bed-sheets only temporarily uncomfortable, until he joined me, pulled me to his chest, his big arms enveloping me. I rested one arm around his waist, the other against his chest. I could feel his rapid pulse under my fingers.

Then he was kissing me. It was slow and gentle, his fingertips skimming the skin of my ribs and back, my neck. I could do nothing but shiver as I tried to increase his pace, my hips bucking against him against my will. I wrapped a leg around his waist, pulled myself up to try to deepen the kiss. His hands stilled on my hips, stopped me from moving. I almost whined as he left my mouth to speak.

"I think we should go a little slower."

My nails bit into his shoulders unconsciously. I tried not to whine.

"Why?"

He growled as I pressed myself flush against him. I could feel his arousal - I knew he wanted it, and I was willing to give it to him - so what was the problem? His hands gripped my wrists, pulling my arms from his shoulders. I whined a little in my throat. I needed his heat, I didn't know what I'd do if he pulled away now.

"Don't ya think I should earn my way back into yer pants?"

His forehead was on mine, his breathing heavy against my lips. I knew he was losing this particular battle. My voice came out a lot huskier than before as I responded, my nose tilting up to brush against his, my lips skimming the ones in front of them. A ghost of a smirk.

"Can't we have make-up sex, and then you can earn your way back into my pants after?"

One of his hands now held both of my wrists, the other pushing contemplative circles into a hip bone. It was driving me insane, the little touches, the shuddering breaths, the way I needed to touch him but _couldn't. _The way I needed him to touch me but he _wasn't. _My hips bucked again as the hand on my hip moved slowly, far too slowly, to my ass.

"That's some fucked-up logic, Ichi."

I used the grip he had on my wrists to pull him closer to me, connect our lips. His instantly parted mine and I was thankful for the small increase in contact. Then his mouth was hard on my own, my head pushed back into the pillow as he rolled me onto my back. One hand still on my wrists, he used the other to tug away my underwear - helped by my eagerly wriggling hips - before divesting himself of his own.

That free hand then travelled my body - from my neck, down my sternum, over my hip, down my thigh, his thumb almost touching me where I needed him to - my hips seemingly out of control as they responded to his touch. I let out a deep moan as he released my wrists, both of his hands now finding purchase on my ass cheeks. Then his cock was grinding against my ass, my own almost-painful arousal barely sated by his stomach.

His stilled again, his grip almost painful and thoroughly arousing. He started to move back but I grabbed him by the hair - desperation clawing its way through the restraints I had forced upon it - dragged his mouth back to mine. I bit into his bottom lip and he growled in his throat, his eyes on mine. I moved my other hand, grasping his wrist, forcing him to touch me. His eyes darkened. I knew I had won.

"Fuck this shit."

Then he was on me in full force. I loved the power I had over him - how I knew exactly what to do to get my way, how I could push him until his restraint shattered - his pure animal attitude seemed only to increase, having been held back for so long. In little to no time, Grimmjow had three fingers inside of me, his teeth harsh and tongue hot against my neck.

I groaned as his fingers retreated. Grimmjow pulled my legs up, up over his shoulders, and then he was plunging into me, giving me no time at all to adjust before starting a brutal pace, the bedsprings screaming their protest. I could barely breathe at all, yet groans passed freely through my lips and into the air. I could hear Grimmjow's harsh breathing even as he forced himself to go faster, one hand on my hip, the other my shoulder.

I couldn't move, Grimmjow had full control over my body - forced me to move with him, down onto him, loud slaps of flesh on flesh - and it turned me on like fuck. This was dirty, beautifully dirty, and was certainly something I would never forget. All I could do was cling onto the bed-sheets in desperation, try to coax air into my lungs.

"Fuck! Yes!"

Oh, and moan like a whore.

It could have been hours, but was most likely minutes, before I came violently, letting free a loud moan. I let go of all my tension as Grimmjow soon followed, an almost breathless sound escaping that perfect mouth. He let my legs down gently and I let out a breath as they started to shake. I struggled to move as they adjusted to being back in a normal position, trying to get myself comfortable as Grimmjow cleaned us up.

Then he was next to me again and I was back against that hot chest, those wet lips back on my own, a languid lip-lock. He kissed my forehead and I felt my eyes droop, exhaustion taking over. As I drifted into well-needed sleep, I thought I heard a half-whisper, a barely-there voice.

"_I love you."_

* * *

><p><em>Ichigo blinked bleary eyes against the offending sunlight that now filtered through the window. It was morning, he realised belatedly. He yawned as he stretched his aching limbs, his mind trying to fill in the elusive blank that was last night. As his brain slowly connected to his senses, he started to recognise the plain white walls, the awful retro ceiling, the scent of sex and the man that defined it.<em>

_Yet there was no one beside him, in that bed. He brushed his hand across the indentation that the other man had left next to him, only to find it cold. His brow furrowing, Ichigo wondered if Grimmjow might have left for work already. He hoped not. He still wasn't convinced, he needed to be sure of what Grimmjow wanted. He thought for a moment that he might be being completely paranoid, but quickly realised that there was nothing he could do about it._

_It was up to Grimmjow, now._

_Rising on shaking legs, Ichigo moved out of the bedroom, taking time only to pull on his boxers and tee-shirt. He moved slowly, cautiously, towards the living room. His brows furrowed as he noted that the door was closed, when they usually always kept it open. Something didn't feel right. No, this was not right at all._

_His breath quickened a little as he reached for the door handle, carefully turning it, his nerves completely on edge. He had a _really _bad feeling about this. Slipping through the door, he almost jumped at the sight of Grimmjow sat on the edge of the sofa. The older man was chewing on his thumb nail, his eyebrows set in a scowl, his eyes dark._

"_Grimm…?"_

_The older man jumped a little, as if he had not even heard Ichigo enter the room._

"_What's going on?"_

_Ichigo moved towards the other man, taking a seat next to him. Grimmjow shook his hands slightly, quickly looking at Ichigo and then away again._

"_Grimmjow… You're scaring me."_

_Grimmjow looked at the younger man almost pleadingly. Ichigo felt a lump rise to his throat as he realised what exactly was going on here. His fears were about to be proved right, weren't they?_

"_This can't happen, Ichigo."_

"_Wh-"_

"_This. Us. It can't happen. Not again."_

_Ichigo swallowed heavily, tears already pricking his eyes. His mouth formed a straight line as he tried not to get angry._

"_What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Grimmjow?"_

"_You know exactly what it means!"_

_Grimmjow was shouting, his fist clenching in the fabric of Ichigo's tee, shaking the younger man roughly. Ichigo wrapped his hand around Grimmjow's wrist, pulling it harshly away from him, his eyes narrowing into a cold look of disgust._

"_You're unbelievable, you know that Grimm?"_

"_Yeah, I'm so fuckin' unbelievable, Ichi, huh? So unbelievable that you _believed _me! What the fuck was I s'posed ta do, Ichi? Fuckin' turn you away when you're crying? I'm not an animal! I-"_

"_NO, Grimm. That's _exactly _what you are!" _

_Ichigo was screaming now, getting up and into Grimmjow's face, barely repressed rage evident on his own features. He grasped the collar of Grimmjow's shirt, brought his fist back. Thrust it forward with a watery roar._

_With a sick crack, Ichigo felt his consciousness reawaken. Blood. There was blood on his hands. He looked down at Grimmjow, who was sat on the floor, a hand covering his nose, blood pouring from underneath it, red rivers down his chin. _

"_Don't you _ever _fuckin' talk to me again, you hear?"_

_Oh God, this ache. He hated it. He wanted to rip him out, the other Ichigo. Rip him out and beat the shit out of him. But he couldn't. He had to live with him, live with what he made Ichigo do. Many a broken nose, an irreparable scar. Amber eyes looked down almost pityingly at Grimmjow, who was now looking back at him in shock._

_Hacking briefly, Ichigo spat on the older man, hastily leaving the room to get his shit together and get the fuck out. He managed to get all the way down the stairs and out of the building before he promptly threw up, against the brick wall. He spat briefly before moving to a clean wall, slumping heavily against it._

Fuck.

_Tears. Ichigo had hoped he wouldn't have to experience pain like this again for a while. A mere few hours, is that as long as it had lasted? This little daydream, this forlorn fantasy, Ichigo should have known it could never be real. Yet he had let that fickle emotion, hope, trick him again. He should have learned by now not to trust the little bastard._

_Ichigo rubbed his raw eyes, and as he removed his hands, all he could see was white._

* * *

><p>I woke up to the sunlight streaming underneath the blind, right into my eyes. Fucksake.<p>

Then it filtered, ever so slowly, into my sleep-hazed mind. The dream. I whipped my head to the side, a small wave of relief passing over me as I took in the sight of Grimmjow lying next to me, the covers around his hips, one arm slung over his head. His chest was rising and falling steadily, still in the depths of dreams that I could only hope were more pleasant than my own.

I started to wonder if I should tell him about the dream. I used to tell him everything. It was one of the things I loved about living with him. When we woke up at the same time, I would tell him about what I had dreamt. He would usually mock me, but it was nice to get it out nonetheless. If the dream had been dark, Grimmjow's humour would lighten my chest, make me realise that it was nothing more than my own mind playing tricks.

I didn't want to annoy him, though. He had said he was sure and I wanted to trust him, even if my mind was niggling at me, telling me that it was a little too good to be true. But I deserved this, didn't I? A little bit of happiness, after everything we had been through? My eyes dropped to his chest, my throat burning a little, trying to stop the thought that was rapidly forming in my mind.

_That scar says otherwise._

Then Grimmjow was shifting and I moved my eyes to see his open. I tried to smile, but it was weak. Then there was a hand threading through my hair, pulling me down to lay on his chest. I heard his heartbeat slowly rise as he wrapped his arm around me, kissed my forehead. His voice was gruff and sleepy as he wished me a good morning.

"You okay?"

I nodded against his chest, not really sure whether I should answer. I was still conflicted about the dream. After all… Almost everything I dreamt happened, eventually. I decided that that was why I was so on edge. I needed to calm down, it wasn't guaranteed that anything from last night's nightmare would happen. For example, I hadn't punched Inoue after that dream last week.

Unfortunately.

I felt a bit sick. I had quite happily forgotten about _that _little issue. Fuck. I looked up at Grimmjow, whose eyes were more alert now, and looking right back at me. It was okay, I tried to tell myself. Grimmjow was still here, with me. I moved my hand from his side to reach up for his jaw, my thumb brushing against his stubble. His eyebrows furrowed and he shifted a little, grabbing my hips, pulling me up and on top of him. I rested my chin on his chest, played with the long trails of hair behind his ear.

"Bad dream?"

I felt my eyes widen and hoped to God he hadn't noticed. How the hell had he known?

"Wanna tell me 'bout it?"

His voice was low, almost a whisper, as if he didn't want to scare me off. I felt my eyes scrunch up as I sniffed away the stinging sensation. I shook my head against his skin before meeting his eyes again.

"It's okay. You're still here."

Grimmjow nodded briefly before pulling me up again, lifting himself off the bed a little in order to connect our lips. I could feel his abdominal muscles tense against my own, tried to stop my dick from hardening. That seemed like an impossible task, however, as Grimmjow's hands promptly moved to my arse. Then he was moving forwards again, opening my mouth with his tongue, making me moan into his.

"You're too tempting, Ichi."

His large hands massaged my ass, my thighs, slowly made their way up my back, to my neck, my jaw. When he pulled out of the kiss his breath came out in subtle pants, his tongue licking out at my lips, his hands tight around my shoulders. I knew it. I ground my hips into his, kissed along his jaw, revelled in the quiet, breathless moan that escaped him. Let a smirk dance over my features.

"Fuuuck."

I had already won.

I plunged my tongue into his mouth and enjoyed the rare moment in which he didn't fight back, where he let me take control. His tongue met mine and they greeted in their usual way. I scraped a hand down his side, ran my thumb over his beautifully cut hipbone. I lifted my hips from his own so I could wrap my hand around him. He instantly bucked, his eyes on mine, smouldering.

I kissed him again briefly before licking along his jaw, biting along his collar bone. I licked down his chest, my hand slowly working his cock, my eyes staying in contact with his. He was smirking, a dark smile that might have been menacing, had I not known what it meant. He knew what was happening, I knew what was happening, and we both knew we'd fucking enjoy it.

My mouth hovered over his arousal, my tongue flicking out to taste him, my hand cupping his testicles. Oh God, I had missed this. Can I just say that I had never given anyone a blowjob before I met Grimmjow? To be quite honest, I don't think I'd ever give anyone else one. What would be the point? After all, everything was about him - the man currently trying to buck his way into my throat.

I pulled back a little, teased him, and he growled in his throat at his punishment. I smirked around his cock, looking right up at him as I swallowed him down. He rose up to balance on his forearms, one hand thrusting into my hair harshly, trying to keep me down. I allowed him to for a while, swirling my tongue before pinching at a thigh, making him loosen his grip a little. I quickened my pace, revelled in the small reactions I was receiving.

_Well, that's just not good enough._

Grimmjow twitched in my mouth and I pulled back. He cursed - looking at me as though I'd just chopped off his dick - and I simply continued to smirk at him. This was so much fun. I didn't say a word, simply pushed my hand to the middle of his chest, pushed him back down to lay on the bed. Crawled over him on all fours. Forced my tongue into his mouth again, forced him to taste himself. His hand tugged on my hair again, his other moving to grasp my hip. He was being far more patient than usual.

I kissed him as I grasped him in my hand again, my arm behind my back as I led him to my entrance. I sat up, looking at him, enjoying the sight of him being beneath me, of having control over him. He looked up at me a little warily as I moved back, unprepared, the only lubrication being my own saliva.

"Ichi- fuck!"

I slammed down on him, arching my back at my own action, at the sound of his voice. We didn't do it very often, but this was the exact reason why I liked to be on top. When it was me putting the effort in, when he didn't have to lift a finger, Grimmjow was _very _vocal. His hands briefly left my hips before returning to their former positions. I revelled in the slight sting as I started to move. It wasn't that many hours since the last round and I, as ever, enjoyed the pleasure spiked with pain.

"Shit! Yess."

I leant back, my hands on his muscular thighs as I rode him - hard, fast, unforgiving - made sure to give him something he could never forget. His pants and groans and growls only spurred me on further. His fingers dug into my hips and I wanted them to bruise me, leave a scar as proof of all that I could physically give him.

Then Grimmjow's hand moved, up and around my shoulders, and he was pulling me forwards, towards him. His tongue searched for mine almost desperately as he clung to me, thrusting into me as I dropped my body weight. I was perspiring from the sheer effort of such a brutal pace, my damp palms curling into the hairs at the back of his head, snapping it backwards.

"Fff-"

I bit into the flesh of Grimmjow's neck, sucking hard, marking him as he had so often marked me. As I let my teeth free him, I drew my tongue across his jaw, up his chin, to his mouth. One of his hands cupped the back of my head as he deepened the kiss. I couldn't keep it up for too long, my movements becoming urgent, the kiss becoming sloppy, all tongue and gasps and barely any movement but still beyond erotic.

I wrapped a hand around myself, tugging harshly, trying to keep to the rhythm that I myself had created. Grimmjow closed what little distance there was between us, crushing my hand between our stomachs, restricting my movements. He licked out at my jaw, grasped my ass harshly with both hands, helped me move down onto him quicker, harder. Growled against my neck.

"Shit, Ichi. M'comin."

At the rough sound of Grimmjow's voice, the feeling of his fingernails digging into my ass cheeks as his cock twitched within me, I came, spilling myself onto our chests. I slowed to a stop, pushed my mouth hastily against Grimmjow's, tried to regain my strength. My legs were shaking, again. I slowly lifted myself up and off of Grimmjow, brought my arms around his form as I continued to kiss him.

Eventually, the kissing slowed to a halt, until I was barely nipping at his swollen lips. I looked down at him and he smirked back, his eyes glittering.

"That was hot as fuck."

I matched his expression, telling him that I already knew that. I eventually lifted myself completely off him, tentatively stepped off the bed, my legs barely holding my weight. Told him I was going to take a shower. He only nodded, that same smirk on his face, his eyes not quite focusing. I almost laughed at his dazed state, feeling proud. Rendering Grimmjow speechless, my friend, is always an achievement.

I let him watch my bare ass as I left the bedroom.

* * *

><p>Half an hour later I left the bathroom - fully dressed and smelling like Grimmjow's bath products - and walked towards the living room, where I could hear Grimmjow talking. I thought about eavesdropping, lingering outside the door for a few moments, but decided to be honest about it. I walked into the room to see Grimmjow collecting the things he would need for the day. He smirked at me in acknowledgement of my presence, and I couldn't help but mirror it.<p>

I listened as he fed someone - Hirako, I presumed - some bullshit about why he was late. He had forgotten something, apparently, and had to come back for it. I tried not to laugh. It reminded me so much of when we had first started seeing each other. I'd stay over at Grimmjow's and we'd end up getting a bit carried away in the early hours of the morning, which led to the later hours of the morning, which led to Grimmjow phoning Neliel, telling her that he had been having 'car troubles'.

I remembered turning up to work together one morning, Neliel looking at us both with innocent curiosity. She had taken Grimmjow to one side, away from me, and so I had gone into the staff room to get ready for my shift. I had been so nervous - thinking she'd figured something out - that I had pulled Grimmjow to one side later on, asked him what had happened. He had laughed before telling me that Neliel had been concerned that his car troubles were stopping him from sleeping, and that if he ever needed someone to talk to, she was there for him.

I felt myself swallowing thickly at the memories of Neliel. I had let her down so much, yet I didn't think I could ever have forgiven myself, were it not for her. After things had calmed down with my family, with my treatment, I had gone into Arrancar. Grimmjow had walked proudly at my side, his fingers linked through my own shaking ones. He had been so supportive, back then.

She had been so angry to see me at first, until she really looked. Then she had taken us both into the staff room, and I had told her everything. I had broken down, crying, the tender stokes of Grimmjow's thumb against my knuckles only making the pain more poignant. I had made sure to apologise to her. I had told her that I didn't expect her to forgive me.

But she had left her seat, walked over to me, knelt in front of where I sat. Grimmjow's hand had left mine as she wrapped her arms around me, her chest hiccuping with sobs. I had tentatively responded, rubbing her back as she cried for a reason I did not understand. I looked worriedly at Grimmjow, shocked when I saw a small smile on his face. His lips had formed words without sounds.

"_I told you."_

I had tried to speak, my voice coming out cracked as I tried not to start crying again.

"_Nel-"_

"_I'm so sorry, Ichi-chan! I'm so sorry!" _

Then she had started full-on bawling, her eyes scrunching up, her hands moving to hide her eyes as she wept openly. I could do nothing but watch her, shocked. I had done such terrible things, things that people should have hated me for. I knew I didn't deserve any compassion. Yet there I was, in a room with my boyfriend who had saved my life, and a woman who was blaming herself for my own stupidity.

"_I should have known, Ichi-chan. I should have been there for you!"_

"_Neliel, this isn't your fault."_

I had rested my hands on her shoulders, tried to get her to look at me. Tears had been threatening to spill once again, yet I had pushed forward. I needed to make her understand.

"_I should have told you, because you _were_ there for me. But I couldn't. I was too gone. But I'm getting better now, okay? You can stop crying…"_

She had sniffled slightly and Grimmjow had passed her a tissue, the small smile still on his face. She had blown her nose vigourously before looking up at me with puffy eyes and the sweetest smile. I really loved Neliel. Sometimes, I had thought that she would have made a great mother. Not that anyone could replace mine. A few months later, she had left Japan. We still kept in contact through occasional emails, though.

I shrugged on my jacket, making a mental note to email Neliel. Grimmjow finally got off the phone, gesturing throwing it against the wall before looking back at me with a crazy grin. I couldn't return the gesture, however. I was trying to prepare myself, trying to get up the guts to bring up a particular subject. One which I would rather not have had to talk about.

I cleared my throat behind my fist and Grimmjow looked at me as if I was crazy. I wondered briefly if that really was something people only ever did in films. In any case, I had got his attention. Now I just had to actually say something.

"What are you going to do about…"

I trailed off, gesturing giant breasts with my open hands, not wanting to speak her name. Something flickered across Grimmjow's face, if only for a second, and I felt my eyes narrow. I didn't like the look of that. Then Grimmjow grabbed his own jacket, walked towards the door, gesturing with his head for me to follow him.

"I'll talk to her."

* * *

><p>We walked hand in hand, until the same point as the previous time I had visited him. He kissed me again. I didn't want him to go. I wanted more time with him to talk things over, work out what we were going to do. Alas, Grimmjow had to work, and I had to let go of his hand as we once again parted ways with so many things unanswered.<p>

I walked home with a barely-there limp. I fished out my cigarettes - pushing one into my mouth and moving to light it - when I noticed it. I put the cigarette back in the packet, cupped my hand over my nose. Inhaled. Lifted the collar of my jacket up around my face. I was almost tempted to close my eyes.

I smelled like Grimmjow.

Although I was happy - honestly, I was - I still felt a little weighed down. Not as much as I had been, mind you. It's just, after everything that had happened, all of this really did seem a little too good to be true. Plus, there was still one tiny, severely _irritating_, thing that needed dealing with.

_Inoue. _

I started to wonder if I could really make this work, but quickly corrected myself. I _had _to make this work. I set up a new goal; a new thing to strive for. A new resolve. I was going to make things work between myself and Grimmjow, no matter how hard it was. This time, I wouldn't be fighting for the present, or the not-too-distant future. This time, I would be fighting for forever.

* * *

><p>One week later, I hadn't heard from Grimmjow.<p>

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: I'm not even sorry..._**


	8. If You Don't, Don't

**_A/N: Hellooo, beautiful readers. I'm all finished with my exams now (thank god) and I've had a lovely week to myself, reading and generally laying about. I start classes again on Monday, though... /sigh. In any case, I loved all of your reactions to the last chapter. I'm so glad you're involved enough in this story to threaten my life :') /isn't even joking. Maybe I'm an S? In any case, I'll stop rambling, and let you get on with it..._**

**_Oh, just a quick warning, this chapter has a LOT of swearing in it, including the 'c' word (shockhorror!) Although, if you're reading an M fanfiction, I really don't think that should bother you..._**

**_Thank you for your time, as always. I'll look forward to reading your thoughts._  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven: If You Don't, Don't<strong>

_I If you don't know, why would you say so?_

_Would you mean this please if it happens?_

_If you don't know, why would you say so?_

_Won't you get your story straight?_

_If you don't know, honey,_

_Why'd you just say so?_

_Cause I need this now, _

_More than I ever did._

_- If You Don't, Don't, Jimmy Eat World_

* * *

><p>One week later, I hadn't heard from Grimmjow.<p>

It was okay, I told myself, I knew he was busy. He worked a fuckload of hours, he was a manager now, he probably just wanted to spend what little free time he had to himself, I couldn't blame him. I thought all of these things, tried to keep myself calm. What else could I do? I couldn't just turn up at Espada, turn up at the flat, demand to know what was going on - as tempting as it may have been. I had more respect for him than that, although I had to admit to myself that that was slipping. As was my trust for him.

I mean, what was he _doing?_

I lay in my bed, the curtains closed, staring at my ceiling. How had I got back here? I had started it again, the cycle of smoking and drinking - not with Rukia, not with Szayel, not with anyone - just alone, in my room. I hadn't even gone to work, my excuses getting more inexcusable by the day. It wasn't healthy - I tried to remember that - but I couldn't bring myself to stop. As my mind whirled with mostly nothing, my phone began to vibrate on the bedside table. I shot up, grabbed it hastily, hoping more than anything that it would be Grimmjow.

It wasn't.

It was _better _than Grimmjow.

"Yo."

"Yo, Ichigo! I may or may not be back in the country."

I snorted. I had never expected her to give much notice. But still. I moved to sit up on my bed, my mind fuzzy, a slow smile developing on my face, making me feel lighter. This was amazing. Everyone seemed to be coming home, right when I needed them. I silently thanked the heavens as I asked her where she was staying.

"You're back in Karakura, right?"

There was a brief stint of silence before she answered my question. I could imagine her scratching the back of her head, a grin on her face.

"Heh, about that… Fancy a trip to Choshi?"

I thought about it briefly - wondering why on Earth she'd be staying the other side of Tokyo - but also thinking that it would be nice to get away from Karakura for a bit. I hadn't taken a trip anywhere in years. Plus, I fucking love the seaside.

"Why the fuck not. Lemme call my boss. When d'you want me to head down?"

I was starting to get excited, her words slowly sinking in. I couldn't believe it. Would I really be able to see her again, in the flesh? I instantly started to think of new excuses I could feed Urahara - could I get run over, maybe? This _was_ practically an emergency.

"Tomorrow? I'm only back for a few days..."

"Done."

I tried not to giggle like a child. Or sigh with relief. It looked as though things were about to pick up.

"I can't fuckin' wait to see you, Tats."

"Same! Listen, I gotta run. I'll see ya tomorrow!"

* * *

><p>The next day, I found myself on the train to Choshi. I had a rather lame-looking backpack, filled with stuff I'd need - you know, essentials like cigarettes and clean underwear and of course swimming shorts - my dorky look completed by the only pair of sunglasses I had managed to find. I'm pretty sure they came straight out of the nineties. I didn't care though, I was on my way to see Tatsuki.<p>

I had known the girl - well, I suppose I should say woman, really - since we were small. We'd had a very rocky friendship but it had been solid for the last couple of years, since my recovery, and I was forever grateful to have someone like her by my side. She was so loyal and fierce, and I literally couldn't wait to spend the next day or so in her company.

The train arrived at Choshi and so I ambled onto the platform. It didn't take me long to spot her - she was leaning against the wall, cigarette hanging out of her mouth, board shorts and flip-flops paired with a baggy vest and aviators. She gave me the biggest grin and started walking towards me, hands in pockets, revealing that she had shaved half of her head. It had fucking awesome tribal patterns cut into it, and I found myself a little jealous that I didn't have the balls to so something like that. Tatsuki, though, gave no fucks.

"Yo."

God, I had missed this woman. She had been away, studying, for a little over a year. I'm not talking, like, another part of Japan. I'm talking America - a whole other country. She'd always been intelligent, finding an interest in foreign languages once we left high school, and had decided to major in English at University.

She still held on to her childhood dreams, though, moving from karate to mixed martial arts in her spare time, in order to prepare her for the Vale Tudo championships. You could tell, just by looking at her. The girl was buff as fuck - not huge and muscly, like those scary bodybuilder women, but lithe and wired with muscle. As we left the station I lit a cigarette, and she led the way to the hotel we'd be staying in.

"So how was America?"

She turned to me with a wide smile.

"Fuckin' awesome."

She had been at a University, partnered with her own, working as a language assistant. Her smile was wide as she continued. It was good to see her so happy, so energetic, as in love with life as she had ever been. I could only hope that one day, I could be like that.

"It was so good to speak so much English, and to teach the kids there Japanese. Oh my God, Ichigo! You should have heard their accents!"

She slapped me on the shoulder, which was impressive considering how much taller I was than her, laughing her ass off. She told me so many stories - the things she had done over there, the amazing people she had met, the trouble she had almost got into - my cheeks hurt from laughing by the time we reached the hotel. We finally got to our room and I chucked off my backpack, promptly crashing onto the made bed. Tatsuki walked over to the mini-bar, pulling out a couple of beers.

"Woah, man. You know that shit costs a bomb?"

She laughed at me, shaking one of the bottles slightly in her hand.

"Not when you fill it with beer you bought from the supermarket."

I laughed as she passed me a beer and I popped it open. I took a large gulp, sighing, trying to relax my burning cheeks. It was so much fun, so uplifting, to be around her again. We hadn't seen each other in over a year, and yet our friendship still felt exactly the same. Nothing had changed. Well, except…

"So how're things with the Old Man?"

I cringed at the nickname. If anyone had overheard us, they probably would have thought she was talking about my dad. Which would have caused a few misunderstandings, and probably a visit to the local police station, if they had heard the following conversation. You see, Tatsuki wasn't talking about my father. She was talking about Grimmjow.

I can't remember how exactly the nickname started. I believe it was just after I'd started seeing him. Tatsuki, you see, had never fully approved of our relationship. She had a knack for judging people, and getting it right. She had told me right off the bat, after a fleeting encounter with him, that she didn't like him. Saying that, though, she had said the same to me, not long after.

"_I don't like you. You're not Ichigo, anymore."_

She had still stuck by me, though, if slightly more on the sidelines. She later told me that she had felt useless - she had hated that she knew what was going on but couldn't help me, I wouldn't let her - and so she had pushed herself away from me. I of course had apologised - as I had with almost everyone - and our friendship had become completely repaired in what felt like seconds.

I smiled at the memory. It was definitely bittersweet, but I knew that we might not have been as strong as we were had it not been for that. That time had been a test, in so many ways. After I had told Tatsuki about everything, about that night, she had become slightly more accepting of Grimmjow. She still used the nickname, though.

"Err… About that."

Tatsuki had been away a year, but it's not like we had had no contact whatsoever. Occasional emails, video calls, there were all sorts of ways to make sure that I knew what was going on in her life, and vice-versa. In other words, Tatsuki knew Grimmjow and I had broken up. She didn't know about the more recent developments, however.

"Oh that does not sound good."

She slumped on her stomach on her own, already-messy bed, her legs dangling over one edge, her arms the other, as she looked me in the eye. I couldn't hold her gaze. It felt like she _knew. _How weird is that? Tatsuki had always been like that, though. She always had some weird premonition-type-deal going on. It was like she was psychic.

"Well, there have been some, umm, developments?"

Her stone cold gaze told me without words that I needed to continue, otherwise she might just kick my ass like she had done so many times when we were younger. Alas, I relented, telling her every gory detail of the past few weeks. It was only once I had said it all aloud that I realised how much drama there had been in my life, and in such a short amount of time. I sighed, swilling my beer. It was nice to relax a little, yet this topic had just had to rear its head.

When I looked up, Tatsuki was shaking her head at me, a disbelieving look on her face.

"I fucking knew it."

See, I told you she was psychic.

"I knew this would happen. I knew you two wouldn't be able to stay away from each other."

I couldn't understand what she meant. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? I couldn't quite tell. However, something was pulling at my heart, whispering into my ear. My stomach felt warm as I considered her words. Were we really like that, Grimmjow and I? I mean, it had to mean something, didn't it? That we couldn't stay away from each other? I feared I was getting rather too sentimental.

"So what's happening now, Ichigo? Are you two going to get back together?"

Her brows furrowed as she asked and I couldn't help but get defensive. Did she really have to be so cynical?

"Is that such a bad idea?"

Her head was shaking from side to side again. What did that _mean? _It was starting to get on my nerves, and so I told her so.

"Look, Ichigo… You know how I feel about Grimmjow. So you should know that I actually happen to agree with him on some level. He _does _hold you back. You've got to see that, surely? After all this time?"

I could feel my scowl deepening as I try to counterattack.

"That's not-"

"Then why are you still in Karakura, Ichigo? For your job? Your family? It can't be your friends, they're not even around enough for you to use that excuse anymore-"

"I-"

"You should _know _by now! There's nothing for you in Karakura that you can't return to! Your family will always be there to support you, your friends have proven to you that no matter where they are, they will fucking stay by your side so what the _fuck _are you sticking around for, if it's not for him?"

My eyes narrowed as I took the image of her in. She had abandoned her slouching long ago in favour of getting up on her knees, her arms wildly moving as her volume rose, her cheeks tinged with the slightest pink. I knew she was trying to help. I knew she was just being as honest as she could be with me. That didn't mean that it didn't hurt, though - her words. I had to look away from her as I spoke.

"Fine. Okay. I'm sticking around for Grimmjow. Is that what you want me to say?"

The words fell like dead weight from my mouth. I honestly had no idea if they were true or not. There was no emotion behind them, not anger, not even sadness. I just didn't know what else to say. I looked back to Tatsuki. She wasn't bouncing, raging any more. She was just sat, a sad look on her petite face, her fringe hiding her eyes. Guilt burned at my insides.

"Look, Tats… You know how much Grimm means to me. You know the attachment I have to him. It's not easy, this situation…"

"I know, I _know… _But you can't dwell on that attachment forever. I mean, if you genuinely still love each other, and you think you can make it work, then go for it. It's just, as far as I can see… For you, it's more of a dependency than a relationship."

She moved to join me on my bed, put a hand over one of mine, her other arm wrapping around my waist. I could feel her looking at me, silently asking for eye contact. I finally gave it to her, my eyes lifting to meet hers. I felt my eyes welling up as I looked into her own glazed ones. What was wrong with me?

"Ichigo, Grimmjow saved your life. No one can tell you otherwise. But that doesn't mean that you're not allowed to live without him. He didn't stop you that night so you could be unhappy. Even now, he's thinking of what's best for you - as much as it pains me to admit it - but he can't be around forever, no one can. You know that better than anyone. You have to move on, Ichigo... You have to live, not for him, but for yourself."

I let the tears fall down my cheeks. How could someone know me so fully? How could this person know my exact thoughts, my feeling, my fears? I wiped my nose with my sleeve sloppily, giving Tatsuki a wry smile. She had a hand over her mouth when I looked back up at her, tears falling down her cheeks freely.

"I don't ever want to see you like that again, Ichigo."

* * *

><p>That night Tatsuki took me out into the city. It was bright and filled with people and at once I felt alive again. I was out with one of my closest friends, in a city I hadn't visited in years. It felt good, really good, and I almost forgot. It was scary, how much being away from Karakura could change my way of thinking.<p>

We went to a bar, got a few drinks in, chatted as though we'd never been apart. Moved to another bar, this one busier, drank more, and more, until Tatsuki grabbed my by the hand and demanded that I dance with her. I grinned as I was dragged onto the dance-floor.

Can I just say that I am a terrible dancer? I didn't care, though. Tastuki was dancing just as badly as me, as were half the other people in the place, and I couldn't help but laugh. It felt amazing, being in a new place. It felt as though the air was different. I could walk the streets and not recognise a single thing; I could dance like an idiot in a packed bar and not be seen by a single person I knew.

Tatsuki flitted off to dance with a nearby girl and I felt hands on my waist. Turning, I smirked as I acknowledged the tall - and fucking hot_, _may I just add - guy who was puling me to dance with him. I let myself relax as the alcohol took control of my muscles, closed my eyes, took a deep breath of the new air. In that moment, I felt like I could do anything. I felt I could be myself, live for myself, live a new life.

I felt as though I didn't need drugs, I didn't need alcohol - as ironic as that thought may have been at the time - I didn't need anyone else. I felt a small smile pull at my lips as the bass got heavier and I wondered if I might be able to start again. I wondered if I might really be able to cope, on my own, without all of the things that I had clung to, weighed myself down with. Without…

Without Grimmjow.

Then I felt lips on my neck, a hand on my arse and I jerked away, turning to face the guy. I let a smirk play on my lips as I told him that I had to go. He started to say something, ask for my name, but I was practically fleeing, grabbing Tatsuki by the wrist on my way out, laughing as we reached the door. She turned to me with a confused expression, but a smile dancing on her lips. A silent question.

"I basically just got molested."

Then she was laughing with me and I didn't know why it was funny but I couldn't stop. Then I felt it falling, that feeling, that blissful high that I rarely achieved but always strove for. I tried to cling to it, make it stay, but as ever it fell through my fingers. I rubbed my burning cheeks as I tried to keep my thoughts level, tried to keep hold of my good mood. I tried to tell myself that this trip was good for me, but inside I was screaming that I needed to leave, before I forgot all about him.

Was this really just a dependency?

* * *

><p>We were on the beach when she next raised the topic.<p>

"So, have you heard from him yet?"

I had been quite happily sunbathing, with my ridiculously high-factor sun-cream, of course, and was more than a little irked that she wouldn't leave it be. I wanted to relax, not think about all the shit that I had to on a daily basis in Karakura. I shook my head, wondering briefly if she was even looking at me. I had my eyes closed. The sun felt good, warming my skin, my insides. I tried to focus on that.

"So he hasn't broken up with that Inoue chick yet?"

I swallowed thickly, a small bell ringing in my head, signifying Tatsuki had hit the jackpot, and if she'd like to claim her prize?

"Probably not."

It hurt to admit, but I knew it. I knew, deep down.

"So what are you going to do?"

_Kick his ass._

"I don't know, Tats. I'll give him a bit more time."

Then she just had to go ahead and speak my mind, again. Could she read me like a book, or was she just too sharp for her own good? I decided it was probably both.

"What if he doesn't do it? I mean, what's taking him so long?"

I sighed heavily, I could tell she wasn't just going to drop it. She cared too much about me. I appreciated it, I really did, but I was more than happy to just pretend that nothing was going wrong, just for a moment.

"I don't know. He's busy. He probably doesn't want to hurt her."

I tried not to growl in my throat. I knew it was probably true - Grimmjow wouldn't want to hurt Inoue - but that, in turn, hurt me. I was screaming on the inside - _break her heart, run to me, prove you care _- screaming things I wish I could tell him, ask him. But I couldn't.

Where was he?

"You do realise that he's getting the best of both worlds right now? He's got some dumb chick clinging to his every word, and probably limb, and you on the other side for, y'know, decent sex and conversation. You have to make him choose."

_Like I don't know that._

I stayed silent.

"You're an idiot, Ichigo."

"I know."

* * *

><p>A few hours and a sandy shower later, I found myself on the train home. The further down the line I travelled, the more my thoughts strayed. The high I had felt the previous night had slowly fizzled away, pulled up and down occasionally by Tatsuki's infectious spirit and her prying questions. But now she was gone, and I was left to try to sort through my own shit again.<p>

I could still sense it, how I had felt that night, but that only served to make me feel worse in comparison. It had made me understand a little more, you see, what Grimmjow had been talking about. What Tatsuki had agreed with. The fact that I had been so happy, felt so free, whilst away from him… Did that mean I didn't need him, anymore?

_You may not need him, but do you _want_ him?_

I felt so childish, so petulant, having fought so hard to make Grimmjow accept me again. I understood what he had meant, now. But still. It burned, it ached. I didn't know what it was anymore, how to label this emotion, but it didn't mean that I still didn't _feel _it. I wanted Grimmjow, I knew that much for certain. I would fight any battle, put myself in any situation, just to be at his side.

I knew I still couldn't just sit on the sidelines, be his friend. The only way I could possibly see that little spectacle working was if Grimmjow stayed single for, oh I don't know, forever? And that would never happen. Not in a million years. I had known it, from the minute I had met him. I had known that if I ever had the chance to hold him, I should never let go.

"_I never stay single long."_

Why had I let go?

Grimmjow had been honest, and completely right. I knew for a fact that our relationship had been the longest he'd ever had. I knew that he had never lived with a partner before me. Yet, despite having just got out of his most significant relationship it took him, what? A few months to start fucking someone else? I didn't care that I had done exactly the same thing. It hadn't meant anything to me. Did Inoue really mean that much to Grimmjow?

I shook my head. It wasn't doing me any good, going over the same old shit again.

I needed to talk to him.

* * *

><p>The next day, I found myself back at work. Urahara hadn't greeted me with his usual flamboyancy, instead observing me closely with narrowed eyes. All I could do was sigh, rub a hand over my face, down a scalding coffee and get to work. I wasn't going to apologise. I would just make sure to make up for my less-than-acceptable work ethic.<p>

The day dragged by, but I kept myself busy with little tasks that I hoped would placate my boss. I didn't especially want to lose my job, it was one of the only things keeping me marginally sane. The routine; it was what I needed to hold onto. To think, that I had been so close to throwing it away. What would I have done?

_Do you really want to think about that?_

I shook my head and dismissed myself for a break. Thinking I would ring Tatsuki and thank her properly for getting me away for a bit, I flipped open my phone case.

_Fuck._

I had a new message. From Grimmjow. Instead of excitement, though, a slow sensation of dread curled its way into my stomach, my heart pulsing with a heavy, uneven rhythm. I looked away from the screen, moved outside the shop, lit a cigarette. Inhaled deeply before once again scanning the lock screen. I didn't want to open it, but I had to know. My hands were shaking as I slid the screen to unlock it, clicked to open the text.

_I need to talk to you. Tonight. I finish at 21:30, can you meet me?_

My breath shuddered in and out, the stinging forming in my sinuses.

_I fucking knew it._

I knew what he wanted to talk to me about. I could feel it, a pure instinctual truth. My mind was yelling at me to calm the fuck down, that it didn't necessarily mean anything bad. He could just want to apologise. He could just want to see me. My heart, though... My heart knew. It was clattering in my chest, screaming, telling me to remember that dream, remember how it had felt. The dream that was about to become reality.

Grimmjow had chosen Inoue. There was no other explanation for him ignoring me, texting me out of the blue so bluntly. He was going to go back on what he had said. My mind asked me why I had ever believed him but my heart retorted with the cold truth - that I loved him, that I thought he loved me, that I had assumed that I was important to him. Why wouldn't I have thought that? It was what he had made me believe.

_He used me._

Had he fallen for Inoue, was that it? Was he in _love _with her now? My mind snorted its refute, asked me why he would have cheated on her with his ex if he truly loved her. I liked how it was trying to defend me, but I couldn't quite believe it. After all, he had done the exact same thing to me now, hadn't he? He had told me that he loved _me_, hadn't he?

"_You're an idiot, Ichigo."_

_I know._

I text him back, told him I'd be there. I wanted to tell him how I knew I should have expected this, how maybe a small part of me _had _been expecting this, but I didn't want him to know. I wanted him to feel fully guilty when he told me. I also didn't want to show him how angry I was. I was stronger than that, now, wasn't I? I could control myself, this time.

* * *

><p>"Yo."<p>

I narrowed my eyes at the man, not returning the greeting. He couldn't hold my gaze, his eyes flickering to look out into the street. A deep sigh fell from his lips. I was about to prompt him, ask him if we were going or what. I had assumed that we'd go back to the flat, out of the cold night air, he'd break my heart and I'd leave. Before I got the chance to say anything, though, he was asking me a question.

"Where d'you wanna go?"

His eyes flickered back to me, away again. Mine stayed focused on his face, trying to analyse his features. All I had picked up on so far, though, was that he was tired. Tired enough that pronounced bags sat under his eyes - eyes that were more dull than I had seen them in years. I felt my heart pick up as I realised that I recognised this face. I had seen it a few times before. I knew what it meant.

"What?"

My voice was hoarse and, instead of sounding confused, I just sounded angry. _Well, _I mused_, I'm feeling each of those equally._

"Where d'you wanna go? To talk."

I wanted to scream at him, tell him to fucking _look at me. _Why was that so difficult for him? Instead I ripped my eyes from their position on his face, started to walk away. If he wanted to do this in public, I would rather go somewhere with fewer to no people. I walked towards the river in silence, soft footsteps behind me letting me know that he was following. I tried to stop my hands from shaking. I needed to calm down.

I stopped at the top of the slope that led to the river, sat down slowly on the cold concrete, let my shoes kick at the grass. I looked out at the scenery, tried to take a deep breath. I could see almost everything from that spot. The small patches of greenery that dotted over Karakura, the tall buildings, the softly flowing water, the bridge.

I swallowed hard as I felt Grimmjow take a seat next to me. It was his turn to search my face - I could feel him doing it, and it was irritating the crap out of me. I whipped my head to glare at the man, tried to keep my voice calm. It didn't work very well, though.

"Spit it out then, Grimmjow."

His eyes widened briefly before they settled back into a tired scowl. I wondered if he thought I didn't know, couldn't tell, if he thought I was stupid. The rage I had been trying to suppress surged forward. I took a deep breath, continued to glare at him.

"Ichi, I-"

"Don't fucking call me that."

I snapped out the words before I could stop myself. It hurt - how could he call me that, when he was going to break me again? His eyes widened and I felt a spark move across my skin. I wanted to smirk but I didn't know why. I needed to stop this. Calm down. More deep breaths. Focus. Get the truth out of him, for once.

"Ichigo… Fuck." He took a deep breath, scrubbed a hand over his almost-gaunt features. "I just think this is the worst idea."

_Ding ding ding. _

The alarms started ringing.

"I've been thinking a lot and I want to be sensible about this. I want to think with my head, not my heart, and my head is telling me that... This can't happen."

_You should have listened. You should have paid attention to that dream._

"And why the fuck would you want to do _that, _Grimmjow?"

My voice comes out eerily calm despite my inner rage. I knew it - I fucking _knew_ it - so why was I still surprised, shocked even? Why did it hurt so much, when I had expected it? Grimmjow was just staring at me with a calm expression, and I felt myself getting angrier. Words spat out from my mouth, hurtful words from a hurting heart.

"Why the fuck would you rather listen to your head? _I don't get it! _What's your head telling you to do, huh? To fuck people over? To cheat on your girlfriend? To lie to someone who loves you? To stay with a stupid naïve little _cunt?"_

So much for self-restraint.

My breath was heaving from my chest, my eyes narrowed, my brow almost aching from the severe scowl I must have been sporting. Grimmjow's face was still calm - although I had seen his eyes narrow slightly, felt a pang of pride at the small slip in his mask - he made no move to talk, and so I continued.

"Your head wants you to choose _her_, huh? Wants you to choose a little girl with no fucking _clue_ how the world works, wants you to choose_ her _over the goddamn longest relationship you've ever had? Don't make me fucking laugh, Grimmjow. You really care about her that much? You care about her more than me? Is that it? 'Cause if that's fucking true, why the fuck did you sleep with _me _when you were supposed to be with _her_?"

So much for self-control.

"What is it, Grimm, huh? What? You _love _her?"

I was happy, too happy, that his eyes were now narrowed, his spine had stiffened, anger rolling off his form in waves. Then his lips formed words, growling words with a disguised threat, a fake calm. They slowly sunk in, my mind not ready for his input.

"I'm not with Orihime anymore."

I felt sick as her first name fell from his lips. How dare he? But wait. Ha! I couldn't help myself. I began laughing, laughing so hard, so painfully. My chest jumped up and down, my voice too loud, grating at the night air. I slammed a fist into the concrete slab we were sat on, the harsh impact of the stone barely helping me get out the pure _frustration _I felt. My voice came out dark, threatening, sarcastic.

"Don't fucking lie to me, Grimmjow. You really expect me to believe tha-"

"I'm _not with her anymore."_

"I _don't_ _believe you."_

I matched his voice with equal venom. Who the fuck did he think he was? He was acting like he was so high-and-mighty, as though he hadn't done a single thing wrong. But he couldn't play innocent with me. I knew him too well. I knew he was lying. I knew this would all fall to shit, in the end. I had been stupid. But no more. Not this time.

"You wanna know what happened, Ichigo? Huh? You wanna know?"

I let a grin pull at my lips. I didn't want to know, but I needed to. I pushed myself up off the cold concrete, stood, twirled in a wide circle before facing him again, my arms out by my side. Would I ever feel truly free? I danced closer to the walls behind us. Grimmjow was following me, pushing himself roughly to stand, taking heavy steps towards me, getting in my face. I could smell him.

"I went to her house. She had made me fucking _dinner-_"

_This is too much. _

_You have to stop talking. _

_I'm going to be sick._

"- and I had to tell her that I'd _cheated_ on her. I told her _everything. _What happened those nights, those mornings - I had to tell her that I _repeatedly _slept with my _ex-boyfriend. _You know how difficult it was, seeing her cry, Ichigo?"

_Less difficult than seeing me cry, apparently._

_Shut up, shut up, shut up._

_I don't want to hurt you._

"Seeing her _beg? _You know what she said to me? She said that it was okay, that she could forgive me, that she wanted to work through it, that she wanted to _stay_ with me. _And I had to say no."_

Something snapped.

I could feel flesh under my hands, growling in my throat.

_No, no, no._

* * *

><p><em>July 16th 2008, 09:00<em>

"_Ichigo."_

_A large foot moved to kick the figure that was slumped in the doorway to their bedroom. Ichigo was sprawled face-down on the scratchy carpet, his arms and legs spread out at strange angles. It looked as though he had simply crawled into the flat and fallen straight asleep._

"_Ichigo, wake the fuck up."_

_Another kick. The younger man let out a rough groan, but made no move to open his eyes, much less push himself off the floor. His voice sounded as though he had smoked an entire carton of cigarettes in one night. Although, when he thought about it, the older man couldn't find it in himself to be surprised. Ichigo probably had. He smirked a little at the unconscious figure. He supposed he could let him off. It had been his birthday, after all._

"_Ichi, if you don't wake up, I will stomp on you."_

_Not even a moan this time. Sighing, the older man dug his hand's into Ichigo's armpits, pulling him up from the floor and dragging him into the room. He threw Ichigo onto the bed none-too-carefully - the younger man didn't even flinch. Grimmjow cocked his head slightly, his eyebrows furrowing as he studied Ichigo's face. The young man looked rough as fuck. And was that _blood_?_

"_Fucksake." _

_Like the dutiful boyfriend he was, he began to strip his passed-out partner. The lazy fucker hadn't even taken off his shoes. Leaving Ichigo in his boxers, he threw the duvet over him and moved to the kitchen. The clothes in his hand stank like smoke and alcohol and things he didn't recognise. He unrolled sleeves, turned shirts inside out, chucked them in the washing machine. He was emptying the pockets of Ichigo's jeans when he found it._

_His hand clenched around what felt like scrunched-up paper. Wondering how Ichigo had not spent all of his money, he pulled the presumed folded-up note out. Only after shoving the jeans into the machine and turning it on did he inspect what actually sat in his hand. His eyes narrowed and his heartbeat picked up. He knew what this was._

"_Fuck."_

* * *

><p><em>Ichigo felt like he was dying.<em>

_When was the last time he had had such a good night out? He really couldn't remember. Saying that, though, he couldn't exactly remember much of his birthday night. He moved a hand to his throbbing head, tried to swallow away this disgusting aftertaste of too many beers and cigarettes. He needed water. Where was Grimmjow?_

"_Grimm…"_

_Ichigo smirked to himself a little, his eyes still closed. He knew he sounded like a whiny child, but he felt he had the right to. He was horrifically hung-over, he needed to be looked after. He swallowed heavily again and grimaced at the feeling otherwise known as cottonmouth. Maybe tea would be better?_

"_Grimmmm…"_

_Still no answer. Fuck, where was the bastard when he needed him? Rubbing yellow-tinged fingers over his eyes, Ichigo finally dared to open them. The small amount of sunlight coming through the blind burned his retinas, making him blink furiously. As his eyesight adjusted, he slowly looked around the room._

Wow. I actually made it into bed.

_Ichigo was convinced that he would have fallen asleep on the kitchen floor, as was often the case when he came home from a night out, usually with ridiculous munchies. He'd sit in front of the fridge, stuffing his face until he was barely conscious, by which time the floor would look _so_ comfy… Ichigo sniggered softly to himself. He'd done well, this time. _

_But still, where was Grimmjow? He wasn't in bed and when Ichigo ran a hand over them, the sheets were cold. Groaning softly to himself, he pushed himself up to sit - much to the distaste of his head and stomach - and briefly wondered if it would be acceptable to crawl into the kitchen to get water. He was sure it would at least provide some entertainment for Grimmjow... If he was even home._

_Slowly, the young man stood on shaking legs. He instantly put one hand flat against the nearest wall - he needed the extra support. With a slow, zombie-like 'urgh', he made his way to the living room, and the adjoining kitchen. The carpet felt too rough against his feet, the wall too cold against his hands. He briefly wondered if Grimmjow would make him a post-birthday bacon sandwich._

_He stilled as soon as he reached the living room. Grimmjow was sat on the edge of the sofa, staring away from Ichigo. The television wasn't on, the computer wasn't on, was he… Waiting for something? The floorboards creaked as Ichigo moved further into the brightly lit room, and he saw Grimmjow flinch slightly._

"_Grimm…"_

_Ack, his voice was just getting worse by the minute. Ichigo really wasn't feeling too well. He started to wonder if this was just an ordinary hangover. He felt so… Inhuman. He furrowed his brow, which didn't much help his headache, as he observed the older man's back. Why wasn't Grimmjow turning around to look at him?_

"_Grimm, is something wrong?"_

_Ichigo slowly edged his way further into the room so that he could get a look at the older man's face. He watched as Grimmjow's muscles tensed, his eyes narrowing, his jaw set. He had his hands balled into fists, resting on his knees that were jumping up and down. Maybe he really _was_ waiting for something?_

_Ichigo moved so that he was stood directly in front of the man. He waved a hand slowly in front of Grimmjow's face, and finally cold, azure eyes made contact with his own. Ichigo repeated his question, moved to stroke Grimmjow's stubbled cheek - found his hand slapped away harshly. Then the older man was standing, moving forwards, and Ichigo found himself backing away._

"_What's going on?"_

_Grimmjow rose to his full height, looked down at Ichigo with a mixture of confusion, anger, and something the older man would rather not confess. His voice was dark, almost threatening, and Ichigo found himself taking another step back._

"_That's what I wanna know."_

_Okay, so now Ichigo was just confused. Had he done something wrong? He tried to think back, tried to remember something he might have done to upset the other man, but his mind came up blank. Taking a deep breath, he took a step forwards, moved to touch the other man._

"_I don't understa-"_

_The hand was quickly slapped away again._

"_DON'T fuckin' play innocent with me! What, you think I'm fuckin' stupid?"_

_Ichigo looked up to Grimmjow again. There was a snarl curling his beautiful mouth, a hurt hidden in his eyes. Then the older man was raising his hand, a small object held firmly between his index and second fingers. He held it up to Ichigo's face, amber eyes slowly focusing on it before widening. Ichigo's lips parted as he remembered. _

"_Grimm, I can-"_

"_What is this?"_

_Grimmjow could see Ichigo's adam's apple bob as he swallowed heavily. Despite the pounding of his head, the haziness of most of the previous night, he knew now. He knew what he had done. He had been stupid - had a brief slip in judgement, the alcohol and certain friends egging him on - but he definitely hadn't done what Grimmjow was accusing him of. He just _wouldn't_._

"_It's a wrap. But Grimm just listen to me-"_

"_What's in the wrap, Ichigo?"_

_The younger man's voice wavered slightly as he answered, his eyes moving from the small paper wrap to his lover's face. How was he supposed to explain if Grimmjow wouldn't let him?_

"_Cocaine."_

_Before Ichigo could blink away the tears that were beginning to form, Grimmjow had whipped around, storming towards the bedroom. Ichigo's head throbbed as he sped after him, tried to arrange his thoughts, tried to work out what was happening, how had this happened, how could he fix this? He found himself shouting as he followed the older man into the bedroom._

"_Grimm, wait! It's not what you think!"_

_Grimmjow wasn't listening. _

"_I didn't take anything! I only smoked and drank and- What are you doing?"_

_Grimmjow had started pulling apart the drawers on Ichigo's bedside, pulling everything from underneath the bed, throwing clothes and other items over his shoulder. Ichigo's panic levels were rising, his breathing picking up, tears flowing steadily down his cheeks, the frustration, oh God was he going to be sick? What was happening? Why wouldn't Grimmjow _listen_?_

"_Grimm, just open the fucking wrap, it's all still in there! Weigh it if you want! I didn't snort a single fucking line! Listen to me, Grimmjow!"_

_Grimmjow got to his feet, scanned the now-messy floor before looking back up to Ichigo. He still had that same expression on his face, the one that told Ichigo that he had fucked up. Ichigo didn't need to be told that, he _knew_. He knew he shouldn't have given in, bought the gram. But he was telling the truth, he hadn't taken anything that night. If he had, he wouldn't have been able to look at that wrap and not immediately snatch it from Grimmjow's grasp._

"_Grimmjow, listen to me! Don't you trust me?"_

_Something flickered in the older man's eyes before he was closing the distance between them, his disgusted snarl curling even further._

"_I did. I _did _trust you, Ichigo. Then what do I find, huh? Fuckin' THIS!"_

_Grimmjow was flicking the wrap between his fingers again, right in Ichigo's face. It was so close, Ichigo could smell it. He couldn't take his eyes off it. His breath was audibly heaving from his chest, his eyes stinging as he constantly rubbed at them, the tears falling thick and heavy as he hiccuped, trying to think of a way to make this better._

"_Why should I fuckin' trust you, when you brought cocaine into this flat, into _our home?"

_Ichigo was shaking, he needed to calm Grimmjow down, he needed to make him understand. This was supposed to be the day they celebrated it - the anniversary of the last time that Ichigo had taken the substance, the drug that had had such a strong grip on him for many a year. Ichigo pushed himself forward, clawed at Grimmjow's tee shirt, tried to pull him towards him, tried to shake him, tried to make him understand._

"_Because I didn't take any! Grimmjow! I- I didn't! Please, you have to believe me, please!"_

_Ichigo broke down, pushed himself into Grimmjow's chest, howled as if in pain. This was killing him. Why had he done such a stupid thing? Why had he risked everything - his health, his friends, his relationship - was it just for the feeling of holding it in his hand, the power of something so destructive? He took a heavy gulp, a shuddering breath, tried to push himself closer to Grimmjow. What if this ruined everything? What if this was it for them, and Ichigo had to say good-bye? _

_Grimmjow seemed to be frozen where he stood, before he moved his large hands to grip Ichigo's shoulders painfully. Ichigo shook, sniffed, took a deep breath before daring to look back into Grimmjow's eyes. They hadn't changed at all. Ichigo blinked furiously, his face grimaced with grief as he opened his mouth to continue, to force Grimmjow to listen. He was cut off by a quiet order._

"_Get out."_

"_W-what?"_

"_You heard me. Get the fuck out."_

_Ichigo's grip on Grimmjow's shirt tightened. He shook his head violently from side to side, a soft, pleading whisper escaping his lips._

"_No."_

_Then the hands on Ichigo's shoulders were wrenching him away, pushing him backwards without letting go, shaking him roughly._

"_Get the fuck out."_

"_NO!"_

_Ichigo cried out, his head whipping to the side as a fist collided with his cheek. He fell backwards slightly, a hand moving to quickly check for blood, the other hand on his bent knee. Looking back up to Grimmjow, he saw the older man glaring at him with a growing look of distaste. He didn't know what to do. How could he make Grimmjow _understand?

"_GET THE FUCK OUT!"_

_It was a feral roar that this time did not disguise the older man's anguish. When Ichigo made no move to leave, Grimmjow raised his fist again. Anticipating it this time, Ichigo evaded the punch, aimed one of his own. Grimmjow caught his fist in his open palm, clenched his hand around the other man's. Then he was pulling Ichigo forwards, growling in his face. _

_Grimmjow made no move to hit Ichigo again, though, and so the younger man took the small opportunity, using his free hand to land a close-range hit in Grimmjow's abdomen. He felt the muscles tense under the impact, wondered why he was punching the stomach that he loved to run his fingers over, trace the plains of muscle, count the hairs leading down to the other man's sex. How had it ended up like this?_

"_I'm not leaving. You have to listen to me, Grimm! Believe me!"_

_Azure eyes shot up to wide amber, teeth clenched and bared. Grimmjow did not speak. He growled, shook Ichigo, the grip on the younger man's shoulders bruising._

"_Grimmjow, please don't do this!"_

_Ichigo's eyes were clenched shut, his body shaking violently even when Grimmjow's grip loosened and he released the younger man, raised his hand once more._

"_I love you."_

_Ichigo flinched as Grimmjow's booming voice filled the small bedroom._

"_YOU LOVE ME? You expect me to believe that? Why the fuck would you do this, Ichi, if you _loved _me?"_

"_I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!"_

_Ichigo felt like he was losing his mind. The frustration, the guilt, the self-loathing, it was all too much. He almost wished he had taken the coke, at least then Grimmjow would have a reason to do this, at least then Ichigo would know that he deserved this. He would happily take this as punishment, but not when he wasn't guilty. Grimmjow's voice had returned to its former state - low and torturous - as he moved towards Ichigo, blocked him against the bed._

"_They all told me, y'know that? They told me not to get involved with you. I wish I had fucking listened."_

No.

No, you don't mean that.

You can't say that, you can't say that to me.

I _love_ you.

_Ichigo's body moved of its own accord. He surged forward with a broken cry, landed a punch to Grimmjow's jaw, knocking his head to the side. Within seconds Ichigo had grabbed the older man's wrists, pulling one harshly so that Grimmjow's body twisted, his back facing Ichigo, his front facing the mirrored wardrobe. Ichigo looked over Grimmjow's shoulder, caught the older man's eyes in the reflective surface. His voice was thick with the tears that still flowed as he choked out a broken command._

"_Take it back."_

_Grimmjow struggled in the hold, his eyes narrowing again after their brief shock, his lips spitting a refute._

"_No."_

_Ichigo didn't know what was happening any more. Had his world collapsed? It felt that way. His vision was slipping, his heartbeat felt too fast for his body to keep up. He felt nothing as his body surged forwards, throwing the older man forcefully away from him. He saw nothing as his leg raised, connected fiercely with the older man's spine. He heard nothing as Grimmjow was hurled into the mirrored wardrobe, the glass shattering, splitting._

_Slicing._

* * *

><p>"You'll never change."<p>

The voice was strange, distorted.

I felt my eyes flicker open. It was dark. It was cold. I was shaking. The first thing I registered was a strong, hot grip around my wrists, tugging them away from…

_Fuck._

I felt my eyes widen as they took in the image of what was happening. What _I_ was _doing. _As I released my hands from their firm grip around Grimmjow's neck, I felt them ache. How long had this been going on? I felt my mouth go dry as I shot my eyes up to meet Grimmjow's. He didn't look angry. Why was he not angry? I had expected him to be livid, to be pushing me away, but he was just observing the ground calmly, his hands still holding my wrists.

I wanted to apologise, wanted to say something, anything, but he cut me off. His eyes moved, falling to the side, his eyebrows furrowed. His voice was soft, softer than I had heard it in years. How many years had it been now, since that night?

"You'll always be that person, won't you?"

The words shot straight through me, my eyes widening, my lungs struggling to take in air. It all started to come back. The reason this had happened. The reason we were stood outside, in the cold. How had I forgotten? I wanted to snap at him, ask him what the fuck that was supposed to mean, but I couldn't bring myself to. I knew it was true, I'd heard it all before. But not from _Grimmjow_.

I wrenched my hands from his grasp, tore myself away from him. How could he say that, how could he say such things? His eyes were still scarily calm, staring at the gravel, his voice almost curious. His eyes were following me as I backed away, shook my head furiously. What did he mean? How did he _know? _I could only choke back.

"Th-that's not true…"

He pushed himself off the wall - how had we got here, again? - followed me slowly, sinisterly. Was this really happening? It couldn't be. I felt like I had gone back in time - what was it, two years ago now? - like it was that morning again. The morning that I thought I would lose everything. The morning that I had almost destroyed everything.

The morning I gave Grimmjow his scar.

"It's you."

What did he mean? I needed to ask him, but I couldn't get the words out. He was massaging the bridge of his nose, his voice becoming more and more quiet.

"It's always you."

He was still walking towards me, I was still retreating away. If we moved much further, I'd fall down the slope, into the river. What was he talking about?

"You'll never be good enough."

I felt as though I would vomit on the spot. My heart was trying to escape my ribs, my hands shaking, my throat and eyes and mind being rapidly filled, blocked, why was this happening? I felt myself scream internally, no noise able to leave my mouth. My brows were furrowed but my eyes were wide, my mouth open, my chest heaving as I moved forward, tried to touch him.

_Slap._

The sound was so nostalgic, the feel of his hand slapping away my own so memorable. The words fell out of my mouth, but I didn't hear them until his eyes flickered. I wondered if he understood, yet.

"I didn't do anything."

Grimmjow seemed to freeze, then. I slowly rose to my full height, the pain slowly numbing as my mind began to accept the truth of what was happening. The anger, though… The anger stayed. For a brief second I wished that I _had _strangled the fucker. But then, when I looked into those eyes, I knew I couldn't have done it. I would never have been able to, not to him. I had no idea who I was.

_I'm pathetic._

I took advantage of Grimmjow's silence, his stillness - walked slowly towards him, until we were almost touching. I felt his heat as I snatched at his hair, forced his mouth on mine, bit his lip until I could taste the copper of his blood. Moved my hands to his hips as he tried to struggle away, raised my knee sharply to connect with his testicles. I watched as he bent over in pain, a low curse spilling from his mouth. Then he was looking up at me, a strange knowing hidden in his eyes, and I was walking away.

* * *

><p>My throat clenched as the phone rang. Was I really going to do this?<p>

"Moshi moshi."

"Yo, Szacchan."

"Ah, Ichigo! How delightful to hear from you!"

I could hear it in his voice. He knew why I was calling.

"What might be the reason for your phoning me, may I ask?"

I could hear his smirk. He knew, alright.

"I'm calling to tell you that you were right."

That unmistakable soft laughter.

"Of course I was, haven't you learnt by now? But, ah, do carry on. What was I right about this time?"

"We need a blow-out."

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: Oho..._**


	9. Life In The Fast Lane

**_A/N: Hello everyone! This chapter was so much fun to write - I can only hope it is as enjoyable to read. As always, thank you for all your favourites, follows and reviews, I love reading your reactions and knowing that people are reading and enjoying this story. _**

**_I want to dedicate this chapter to Anna (kishiresexta on tumblr... Go follow her!) to show my thanks for her support and her promos. Thank you babe, without you, this story wouldn't have reached the whopping 6,000 views it has. Love you!_**

**_In any case, back to the depressing shit (you know you love it)..._**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight: Life in the Fast Lane<strong>

_They knew all the right people,_

_They took all the right pills._

_They threw outrageous parties,_

_They paid heavenly bills._

_There were lines on the mirror,_

_Lines on her face._

_She pretended not to notice,_

_She was caught up in the race._

_- Life in the Fast Lane, The Eagles_

* * *

><p>My mind seemed to have switched itself off, my body in autopilot as I walked home, smoking one cigarette after another. I couldn't think, couldn't feel a thing as I showered, scrubbing hard at my flesh, pretending to drown under the hot stream. My hands shook, my stomach growled its discontent, but my mind paid my body no heed as I left the house again, locked up, lit up, turned to face the black skies. Waited.<p>

_Just like the old days._

Except it wasn't. This was nothing like the old days, not really. I was supposed to be an adult now. I was supposed to be able to cope with real life. I was supposed to be strong enough to deal with anything that was thrown at me. But I wasn't - I didn't think I ever could be. I found myself shaking my head, closing my eyes briefly. Grimmjow had been right. I'd never change.

"_You'll always be that person, won't you?"_

My eyes opened again as I heard the rumbling sound of an approaching car. The door swung open, Szayel meandering out with an insane grin that told me this was it. There was no going back, now. He waltzed up to me, threw his arms around my neck, wound his hands around my forearms, pulled me towards the car.

"Welcome back, Ichigo."

It started to sink in.

I was really going to do this.

I felt a smile curve my lips as I followed him into the back seats. He handed me a glass of champagne, poured himself one.

"A toast."

I raised my glass to his, doubt only briefly flickering through my mind before the smile was growing, the growling of my stomach seeming only to show my hunger for what was to come. This was it. I could let go of everything, now. I could go back. It was so simple, I had no idea why I hadn't thought of it before.

_Because you thought you were happy._

Ha! But what was happiness, really? Pining after something that I could never achieve, could never truly grasp? Pathetic. I knew this was what I had to do. There was no other solution. I had to get myself back, the real me, the one that knew the facts. The one that understood; this was all there was to life. I just had to live it for as long as I could. Szayel's smile took a different form as he continued.

"To a new start, in the loving embrace of old ways."

I nodded and downed the dry, bubbly beverage. I could feel it, now. I was excited. I wasn't scared, not any more. This was the right thing to do. I had Szayel by my side; I didn't need anyone else. We could go back, we could be like we used to. We could be young, we could be wrong, we could be broken, we could be free. It didn't matter, anymore. Nothing mattered more than tonight.

"Where we going?"

I opened the tinted window, lit a cigarette before turning back to Szayel, waiting for his response. As soon as my eyes locked on his, they saw the cunning look and I almost wished I hadn't asked. His golden eyes were filled with promises of danger and delight. I knew what it meant. I knew where we'd be heading tonight.

"Hueco Mundo."

My heart started to pump faster as the words fell slowly from his lips. Oh, yes. This was just perfect. He refilled my glass and I once again chucked the champagne back. I'd need it to start me up, especially if we were going _there_. We had spent quite a significant amount of time in that club during our younger years. We'd run around, steal drinks, dance, lead men and women on, run again… But more importantly, we'd deal. It was our main hotspot, the place that earned us the most profit.

If Sereitei was heaven, then Hueco Mundo was hell. It wasn't filled with bright lights and friendly faces. It wasn't filled with smiley happy people, just looking for a good time. It was a barely-lit cave, a breeding ground for the fucked-up. The customers came to crawl in the darkness, search endlessly for the next fix. Demons with human faces occupied Hueco Mundo. It was where I belonged.

Another glass of champagne and Szayel reached into his pocket, pulling free a bag of pills. I smirked, throwing my cigarette out of the window. He handed me two, taking two for himself. He raised his glass again before we dropped them. Szayel was the best. He knew what I needed to get going. He would ease me back in, back into the life I once lost. It wasn't long before my heartbeat picked up, my excitement rising. I practically beamed at Szayel.

"Thank you."

He only smiled back.

* * *

><p>My hands began to shake as we pulled up outside the club and so I busied them, fishing out a cigarette and pushing it between my lips. I could hear the bass through the walls. Clamourous queues were already forming along the cold brick, filling the street. I scanned the faces, not surprised in the slightest when I recognised most of them. People didn't leave this lifestyle. Even if they did, they always came back. I myself was living proof of this fact; the darkness would always suck you back in.<p>

We walked along the crowds, Szayel doing his usual business - greet, flirt, deal, move on - as we made our way to the front of the queue. I stood tall at his side, my heartbeat keeping its faster pace, asking me when there would be more. I took a deep breath, smiled. _Not long, _I told it, _not long at all. _Szayel looped his arm around mine as we approached the front door and I flicked away my cigarette butt. Looked up. Now _this_ certainly wasn't like the old days.

The doorman raised an eyebrow at me before noticing Szayel and instantly stiffening, bowing slightly. Without a word, the doors were opened, the screaming complaints of those still in the queue fading as we entered. We were greeted with shots on a tray, held by a beautifully deranged girl with magenta eye contacts and an elaborate eye-patch. One, two, three. Hack. The liquid was bitter, but not bitter enough. Szayel turned to me with a smirk.

"Let's minesweep."

I could only grin back. We didn't need to play that game, not anymore. We were adults with steady wages - Szayel being far more well off than myself, of course - but still I found myself nodding. It would be fun, like old times. I raised my open palm to him, and with a curve of an eyebrow he was slapping it with his own, the two of us quickly darting off in different directions.

Exhilaration. I pushed myself up against random men, pulled their drinks from behind their backs, wondered off. Pointed at nothing, made people look away - when their eyes returned, confused, neither myself nor their alcohol would be found. I strolled along the bar, picked up half-empty glasses. It was starting to work. The alcohol and ecstasy in my bloodstream was thrilling, but it wasn't enough. I saw pink hair nearby, and instantly moved towards it. I'd had enough of this game.

It was time.

Szayel's eyes lifted to mine as I got closer, dragged him to one side. I felt him smile as I moved my cheek against his, pressed my lips to his ear. I felt his hands around my waist as I purred. My heart was clattering, my mind reeling. This was it. It was time. You'll always be that person. You'll never change. You'll never be good enough. This is your fate. I wanted this. I wanted all of it.

"Let's go."

That was all it took before he was pulling me forwards, both of us laughing as we crashed through clumps of people, broke up parties, spilled drinks. We slowed down as we reached the black corridor, pushed through the door, into the eerie blue lighting of the toilets. We huddled into the furthest stall, the vague stench of piss not nearly off-putting enough. My breath was shuddering from my chest.

The _hunger_.

Then Szayel was on his knees and I joined him, watched as he pulled free a wrap from his pocket. My still-sensitive nose could smell it through the paper, it was calling me, and I had to stop myself from snatching it out of Szayel's hand. He held it out to me in a silent request. A gift, a test. Did he doubt me, doubt my ability to go through with this? I would show him. I would show him that this was all there was.

"Would you care to do the honours?"

I nodded, swallowing heavily as he placed the wrap in my open palm. My hand wasn't shaking, not anymore. This was it. I wrapped my fingers around it, looking at my closed fist. Then I pulled free my wallet, a card, _that _card. I still kept it with me, at all times. Everyone had told me to destroy it, that I shouldn't have kept it. I didn't listen, though. I couldn't let go. I raised the card to study it. It hadn't been out of my wallet for three years.

_Arrancar Incorporated Employee Identification:_

_Kurosaki Ichigo._

The small photograph showed a mirror of my soon-to-be-self, my signature scrawled underneath. My past, my future. I had been stupid, to think I was worth anything more. I looked up from the gaunt ghost of my teenage self to my smiling friend, handing him a note to roll as I poured white powder onto the closed toilet seat, began chopping it into lines. The smell, the routine, it was intoxicating. It felt as though I had never stopped.

Once I had racked up four rails, I couldn't resist the temptation. I licked the card clean, the bitter taste tingling on my tongue, showing me what was to come, increasing my appetite. Szayel handed me the note, gestured for me to go first. I took it, observing it for a few short moments before leaning, leaning into my fate, my fortune, my future. The only lover I could ever trust.

Inhale. Inhale.

Lean back.

Sniff.

Remember how this feels?

"_Welcome back, Ichigo."_

I barely registered Szayel snorting his own two lines. My teeth had clamped around my bottom lip, a smile forming regardless, twisting my face. My eyes had gone wide, my chest wanting to bubble with laughter. This was it. Ha! It had always been so simple. This was what I had always wanted, what I had dreamed of. This was acceptance. This was a warm welcome. This, this was love, my friend.

Szayel and I practically danced back out of the bathroom. Our touches lingering, our fingers linking. We were strong, unbeatable, this was the best night ever. I could have cried, I felt so happy. We moved around the room, a perfect pair, a bond, we ran and danced through the masses, we were above all of them. We moved to the dance-floor, jumped to the deafening bass, felt the heat of the few brightly coloured skipping lights burn our skin, make us sweat. Bodies pressed against us, crushed us, made us feel at home.

We moved to the smoking area, talked about nothing in particular as I smoked one, two, three cigarettes - I would have liked to have smoked forever, but she was calling me. Another visit to the bathroom. The lines were fatter, the hunger growing. A seduction that was neither slow nor subtle. My mistress, the one I had abandoned, she was angry. She needed to pull me back into line, whip me back into shape, and I was more than willing to abide by her wishes. After all, I loved her. I loved her punishment.

More drinks. This time we lingered by the bar, watched over the masses. I wondered who would be here, tonight. It had been years since I had been to Hueco Mundo - there were a few people I wanted to see. Others, not so much. It wasn't long before I spotted long, wavy brown hair, a defining beard. There. I moved to reach him, shout his name, but before I had the chance, he was walking up to me, an eyebrow raised.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again, kid."

He sounded tired, as he always did. He was one of the few people you could meet here, and wonder if they had simply got lost. He didn't fit in at all. There was a girl stuck to his arm, with a short green bob and a revealing outfit that she looked far too young for. I couldn't judge, though. I couldn't have been much older than her when I had started coming to this club. The girl narrowed her eyes at me, and I gave her a questioning look. She raised her finger at me accusingly.

"I know you. You're that guy O-"

The young girl let out a squeak as the man she was clinging to stepped on her foot. He paid her no notice. As I dragged my confused eyes away from the now hunched over girl, I noticed he hadn't taken his eyes off me. My side felt suddenly cold and so I flickered my eyes away from the man in front of me to search for another. Where had Szayel gone? I felt my hands twitch. I wanted a cigarette. A gruff question fell from thin lips.

"Why are you here?"

Snapping back to the situation at hand, I felt my mouth pull into a smirk, my head shaking slightly from side-to-side. I wondered what this guy thought of me. He probably thought I had been a fucked-up kid who had found his way back onto the right path. How stupid. He should have known that it just didn't work that way. His gaze didn't waver as I answered him, downing the rest of my drink.

"This is where I belong, Starrk."

I moved to walk past him, get away from those eyes, the eyes that were telling me I was wrong. I wasn't wrong. I knew what I was doing. I thought I had got away from him, took a deep breath, but then there was a strong grip around my bicep and I was being pulled backwards. I turned to glare at Starrk, tell him to get the fuck off me, but as I did I saw his focus was no longer on me. I followed his eyes.

He was tugging me roughly away, but I still saw it. I felt my form start to shake slightly. That had been close. That had been really fucking close. What if I had been seen? I ripped Starrk's hand from my arm. I know he saw my wide eyes, the way my face had paled. He was shaking his head at me, his eyes tired and sad. I sniffed, swallowed down the bitter liquid dripping down my throat. Remember who you are.

"Thanks, man."

"Do you really belong here?"

I felt a small crack appear in my resolve at his question. What if he was right? I had told myself that this was it, hadn't I? That I belonged here, that this was it for me, nothing else. So why was I _scared?_ I should have been able to face up to everything that came with this decision - I had made it, after all. I didn't answer Starrk, simply watched as he shook his head, walked away, the girl at his side muttering furiously at him.

I couldn't help myself. I had to go back. I had to look. I had to see if I could truly do this. What did Starrk know, really? My eyes scanned the packed room. There. Right in the corner, a bar to one side, a wall to the other. I had to move closer. I had to see. People jostled around me but I barely took notice, my vision solely focused on one man. There. There he was. I had to see him, get a closer look, without being seen myself.

There were two women at his side. They were both tall, buxom, their breasts bursting from their miniscule tops. I could have sworn there used to be a third, back in the day. A younger girl, perhaps? I shook my head. What did it matter? The man got through chicks like he got through grams. I narrowed my eyes, tried to see past the female forms. There. A shadow. He was definitely there.

I felt my hands twitch again as one of the women - the blonde with the tan skin - moved aside, allowed me a better look at the man. He hadn't changed, not one bit. He was still hulking, huge, the stench of danger and unlimited threats dripping off him like sweat. He was scanning the crowds with tiny eyes, searching for potential victims. I couldn't let myself be seen, caught, not again.

It had taken years to rid myself of this man, the man that had dragged me into all of this in the first place. I could still imagine him sat there, in his disgusting, dingy hole of an apartment, swinging a baggy between his fingers, warning me. I could almost hear the small groans and whimpers of the women who occupied a mattress in the corner. They were just a few of the other people he had 'saved.' I couldn't take my eyes off his grotesque form.

Yammy.

Then his eyes locked on mine, a huge, disgusting smile warping his face, and I was running. I shoved people out of the way, my heartbeat wild, my breathing strained. But why was I running? I had accepted this, hadn't I? Sure, the man terrified the shit out of me but if I was truly ready to go back, back to this life, then I had to accept Yammy back into my life too. _If anything, _my mind crooned, _you should be thanking him. _My legs kept moving though, my eyes refusing to look back. Not yet. Not until-

"Ichigo?"

My head whipped round at the soft, melodious voice, the delicate grasp on my wrist. My mouth fell open without subtlety. No fucking way. I looked over the short, lithe form in front of me. The hand still held my wrist as I scanned his face. He didn't look a day older. He still had that heart-shaped mouth, the full cheeks, the soft lavender eyes. He still had the sleek black bob, although it looked a little longer. His voice was kind, curious. Nothing like it had been, all those years ago.

"Do you remember me?"

How could I forget?

"... Luppi?"

That small mouth beamed a smile, eyes closed happily as he nodded.

"Come with me, let me get you a drink."

I could only nod back, allow myself to be led to the bar. As we propped up against it, he turned to me, his voice bright. He seemed so different, so unlike the bitter man I had met during my time at Arrancar. The last time I had seen him, he had been stumbling home, red wine staining his lips, tears his cheeks. _That_ Luppi seemed light-years away from the man that stood before me now. He seemed so… Happy?

"I don't think I've ever seen you in here before. But anyway, it's been _years._ How have you been? You look so grown-up!"

My eyebrows furrowed at the superiority in his voice, my mind muttering that I had started coming to this club before he probably even knew it existed. His smile told me he meant no malice, though, and so I managed to control my mouth. I smiled a terse smile, nodded, told him I was fine. That's what you're supposed to say, isn't it? He gave me a look, one that told me he didn't believe me, but he didn't say anything about it. I quickly returned the favour.

"How are you? You seem really happy."

His smile grew, and I found myself joining him. It was kind of nice, to see him like this. It suited him so much better. He closed one of his eyes in a wink, put a slender finger to his lips.

"I _am_ happy. I'm working at a strip club at the moment - oh don't look at me like that, it's all very respectable really! I've got my own house, living with my partner - oh, hi sweetie."

A tall man with ridiculously long, blonde hair appeared behind Luppi, planting a kiss on his cheek and wrapping an arm around his tiny waist. I looked away from the couple, pinched my nostrils between my fingers. As happy as I was for Luppi, I didn't exactly want to be around what looked like the world's most sappy couple right now. I was itching for another cigarette, another line, if I could just get away from these two and find Szayel-

"Ichigo, this is my partner Yylfordt. Sweetie, this is Ichigo. I used to work with him at Arrancar."

The guy stood up straight, took my hand in a strong shake, told me it was nice to meet me. As distracted as I was, I could see why Luppi was happy. The guy was hot, his feminine appearance doing nothing to hinder his obvious masculinity. He now had both arms wrapped around his petite partner, a kind smile on his face. He and Luppi just looked _right_, you could see it from a mile off. I was glad Luppi had moved on, he had seemed so distraught back when he and Grimmjow had split up.

_Like you, you mean?_

I swallowed heavily, sniffed, watched Luppi's lips move without much interest as to what was actually coming out of them, too focused on wondering where Szayel was. That was until the last word had been spoken - the tone light and airy but the contents very much not so - and I found myself whipping my eyes back to his, asking him to repeat himself.

"I _said… _How's Grimmjow?"

All I could do was shake my head. Back away slowly.

"_No way."_

Luppi sounded genuinely shocked, even though I hadn't said a word. Then his petite hand was grabbing my arm, rubbing it, pulling me back, his eyes trying to catch mine again. I didn't want this guy's comfort, I didn't want his compassion and I _definitely_ didn't want his pity. I wanted to get fucked, off my face, unable to move. That's all I wanted. I wanted to get my life back. The life I had had before _he _had come along and wrecked it.

Why tonight?

"I really thought you two would fight it through 'til the end, y'know?"

The words stung my sinuses, made me sniff again. I _really _needed to find Szayel.

"Yeah, well, he isn't willing to fight anymore. And neither am I."

My legs began to move, my eyes scanning the room for pink hair, the glinting of glasses, my mouth shouting a farewell to the two men who were now looking at me with a mixture of pity and shock. That simply made me more determined, though, to have a night to remember. To have a night to forget _him_. I finally escaped out into the smoking area, let out a sigh as I sparked up.

I wanted to be happy for Luppi and Yylfordt, I really did, but in that moment I just felt bitter. After briefly wondering if I could be like that, if I could move on, find someone else, I realised it; Luppi and I were too different. He had the looks, the personality, the charm. I had the habits, the problems, the baggage. I wouldn't end up with something as amazing as he had. I had got so close, but even Grimmjow had given up on me.

I had to forget about this. I walked back to the dance-floor, danced as though my life depended on it, scanned the crowds. When I couldn't find Szayel, I found a dealer, pushed notes into his hand, walked to the bathrooms with two grams. It would do me until I found my friend again. I entered the cubicle on my own, racked up on my own, snorted on my own. Two lines. Four lines. Gone. This was how it was meant to me. I was meant to be alone.

When I stood up I felt that smile again, the one that distorted my face. I would be okay, with this, with her. She had my back. I pushed the empty wrap into my back pocket, bounced back to the dance-floor. Let the bodies and the beat take over me once again. I didn't need anyone else. I started to feel it again - how I had felt in Choshi, in that bar with Tatsuki - I felt fucking invincible.

I danced with men and women, jumped up and down, my heart clattering like crazy as my mind soared. I forgot about Luppi, I forgot about Grimmjow, I forgot all about my past. All I could focus on was what was happening right at that moment; the pure ecstasy and insanity I felt, burning me alive. Then the music stopped and there were arms around my waist, the scent of coconut shampoo drifting into my nostrils. Szayel was pulling me away, his trademark grin in full bloom.

"Everyone is heading to the manor, now. Come, come."

He was pulling at my arm with one hand, gesturing with the other that I should hurry. His entire demeanour was that of an excited child and I couldn't help but laugh at him as I followed him towards the exit. I had missed this Szayel, the one with the huge pupils and the stick removed from his arse. It had been years since I had seen him like this. I had wondered earlier on if there would be an after-party, and was more than relieved to hear that the night wasn't coming to an end just yet. I wasn't ready.

"Wait… Who's 'everyone'?"

Stumbling out of the door, one arm still holding mine, Szayel gestured with his free hand to what must have been at least ten cars, all being slowly filled with people. I recognised many, but not all of them. My grin was firmly stuck to my face as we got into the back of our own car, lead the way. I opened my window, lit a cigarette, watched the buildings blur as we rushed past them, excitement racing with my pulse. This could be interesting.

* * *

><p>The manor was a huge, beautiful old house that had belonged to Szayel's father, and had subsequently been passed on to him. It sat in the middle of nowhere, the kind of place that made you question whether or not you were really still in Tokyo. The building was lavish in every sense of the word - high ceilings, pillars, white everywhere. I had been there a few times before and was excited to go back. It was the perfect place to continue the night's festivities.<p>

I moved my eyes away from the window, back to Szayel. He had pulled out a tray from somewhere and was humming to himself as he perfected the lines he had apparently already chopped. I watched his expression as he nailed two, sniffed elegantly, his head falling back, his hair flowing against his shoulders. He looked so content, so at peace. Then he was handing me the tray with a grin and I was taking it, my actions far more messy although no less practised.

We arrived at the manor shortly after, the outside lights flickering on as car after car poured through the gates, parked up on the circular drive. The gravel crunched under my feet as I pushed myself out of the vehicle, joined Szayel in walking up to the door, unlocking it. He quickly moved into a room nearby, left me to stand in the doorway, to watch as the other guests swarmed around me, gazed up in awe at the staircase, the twin pillars, the marble.

Then music began blaring - something dark, heavy, moving - and Szayel reappeared, his arms wide as he declared that everyone should move upstairs and into the main reception room, where they would find a bar and well-stocked fridges. I grinned as the crowd around me whooped, everyone beginning to chatter excitedly. I lead the way up the stairs, though the double-doors, wrapped an arm around Szayel. I leant into his ear, told him I'd be back in a second, and that he'd better have some ice cold alcohol for me when I returned.

I walked out of the room unhurriedly, trying to remember where the multiple bathrooms were, before deciding that if I just walked around, I was bound to find one. Sure enough, just down the corridor lay a large white bathroom suite. I quickly moved to relieve my bladder, wondering what booze Szayel had lying around the place. Probably anything I could want. Smiling, I zipped up, washed my hands, moved to check my appearance in the small shaving mirror.

"_It's you."_

No. That couldn't be me.

The mirror showed a person that I knew, once. That I had been, once. Pale skin, blank eyes, lank hair. Red ran from the mirror-image's nose, but when I raised a hand to my own, I found it dry. But the image's eyes widened as mine did, his mouth fell open as mine did, he blinked repeatedly as I did but he wasn't disappearing and I started to wonder if that truly was me - did I really look like that? No. It wasn't possible.

"_You'll always be that person."_

Before my mind could catch up my arm had thrust forwards, my fist colliding with the reflective glass. I moved again, sweeping the metal frame off the side, heard it crash and clatter as it was thrown into the bathtub. I stood, frozen, panting at the empty space where the mirror had been. Where _he _had been. I had to calm down and so I took gulping breaths, spread my hand, looked down detachedly at my bleeding knuckles. What was happening?

I robotically twisted the tap, watched the water wash away the blood, a little longer, could it wash me away? Cupping my hands, I bent down, splashed my face with the cold liquid, blinked furiously as I searched for a hand towel. I dried my face, dug around in the under-the-sink cupboard, pulled out a first aid kit. Wrapped bandages sloppily around my knuckles. Stood up. As I glanced over the shattered glass littering the room, I tried to stop myself from panicking.

Soft knocking behind me. I whipped around, who was after me, this time? I moved cautiously towards the door, wrapped a hand around the handle, unlocked it quickly before pulling it open, ready to run if necessary. But there was no one on the other side of the door. When the empty space greeted me with silence, I thrust my head out of the doorway, scanned the halls for any sign of life.

There. A figure was walking hurriedly away, almost out of sight. I could only see their back, but as they continued around the corner, their - her - hair flew out behind her, caught the light, told me that I had to follow her. I didn't want to believe what my mind was telling me - was I going crazy, had I finally lost it? - but my heart was going along with it anyway. It was pure intuition, lined with fear, that pushed my feet forward, made me chase after her, running like I hadn't run in a long time.

"Wait!"

As I rounded the corner I could hear the echo of galloping footsteps; she was running down the circular staircase. Why wasn't she stopping? I had to talk to her, I had to ask her if things, if everything, if anything had been true. I wanted to wring her neck, hold her hand, tell her that I pitied her, that I wanted to hate her but wasn't quite sure if I did. I wanted to grab her by that pretty auburn hair and stop her from running away. I needed to know.

"Inoue!"

I was practically falling down the stairs - skipping one, two, three, holding onto the banister for dear life as I swung myself around curve after curve. I couldn't see her anymore, couldn't hear the clicking of her steps, couldn't even remember if what I had seen had actually happened. Was I seeing things? Something solid collided with my chest and then there were hands on my shoulders, holding me up, when had I got so out of breath?

"Ichigo?"

Szayel. He was looking at me with a half-amused, half-worried smirk. It made me feel a little better, a little calmer. He was here. It was okay. Ah! But he'd know. He'd have to know who was at his own party. He was half-carrying me down the stairs when he asked me what on earth I had been doing. I felt like a child as I replied.

"I saw Inoue… I wanted to ask her something… Is she here, Szay? Why is Inoue at your party?"

Szayel slowed his walking to a stop, rested me gently against a wall, searched my eyes. Fuck. I was going mad, wasn't I? His thumbs massaged the tense muscles in my shoulders, that half-smirk still in place.

"Ichigo. Inoue Orihime is not here. Relax."

I knew it. I could only nod, push my fingers into my eyes, breathe as deeply as possible. It was fine, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore, remember? How could I have forgotten that, just because I thought I had seen a girl who, really, had nothing to do with me? I was a fucking idiot. I nodded at Szayel again, gave him a small smile, hooked my arm through his. Took a deep breath. It was time to move on.

"Let's go."

* * *

><p>I almost remembered the way to that room. The room with the locked door, the key kept firmly around Szayel's neck on an elegant chain of silver. I had broken into that room, once. That night. Szayel had never mentioned it, though, and for that I was eternally grateful.<p>

He motioned to me with a small nod, told me to lock the door behind me. I did as I was told, watched him approach one of the low burgundy cabinets that sat below the windows, a smaller set of keys in hand. As he fiddled with the rusting locks, I glanced around the room. It hadn't changed a bit.

A small glass coffee table sat in the middle of the room, covered in small scratches - most of which made by myself and Szayel - that made its surface dull. There was a long, velvet couch on the left, a refrigerator at its side with a clear plastic front showing off various bottles of booze. A widescreen television sat the right of the room. The windows sat directly opposite the door, the long panes reaching almost to the ceiling, elegant cabinets under each.

"Ichigo, come here."

I moved to join Szayel on the floor, held out my hands as he passed me two scales, two sealed razor-blades, sheets of paper, one bag, two. I bit my lip as I gazed into that cabinet, saw just how many bags lay in there, row upon row, every one of them labelled, categorised. I couldn't even calculate the ounces, there seemed to be so much. Yet, only a few years ago, had I had the opportunity, I might just have made my way through the lot in a month.

As he locked the cabinet back up I moved to the coffee table, setting out the memorabilia for him, before walking to the fridge. I asked Szayel if he wanted a beer but, after the disdainful look he gave me, reached instead for a bottle of champagne. It seemed to be all he would drink, now. Fishing glasses out of a different, unlocked, cabinet, I moved to sit opposite him at the table.

As I poured the chilled liquid into two glasses, Szayel poured the contents of the bags next to each other onto the table. The smell was intoxicating. He rolled his sleeves up slightly before parting a section of one pile away from the rest. He placed a scale in front of me before taking his first sip of champagne.

"You can divide ours."

I only nodded as I copied him, rolling up my sleeves. I sniffed heavily, swallowed down the acrid aftertaste. We worked in silence for a few moments, my hands occasionally twitching as I weighed out the purer powder in front of me, watched Szayel cut the rest with an unknown white substance. I allowed my thoughts to wander, replay the evening so far. They kept straying to one person. I heard Szayel clear his throat.

"You are aware I still work with Yammy. You were very lucky to avoid him tonight."

"I know."

I reached for two papers, began folding them, my fingers barely fumbling. I used the blade to pour each of the two, perfectly even piles, into their own wrap. Tried to shut my mind off again.

"So what now, Ichigo?"

Sealing them, I placed one of the wraps near Szayel, before leaning my back to rest against the sofa behind me, gulping down my own drink. Topping us both up, I simply watched my friend work, waited for him to continue.

"You should know by now, shouldn't you? Whether this truly will be a one-off evening, that is."

My heart picked up at his insinuation, his suspicion of my insincerity. But I could smell the coke, the scent of my lover, the taste of her still dripping down my throat. It made me want to be the best kind of sick; an illness I loved and hated simultaneously. Because who else but me could love this? I chuckled a little to myself as I thought it over. I seemed have a habit of falling for things that were bad for me.

"So… Will you be able to walk away, in the morning?"

I couldn't answer him, instead reopening my own wrap, chopping two lines. I allowed my lips to quirk up as I bent my head to the table, hammered them both, watched my eyes water in the scratched reflection. I wouldn't be scared of it, this time. I could accept him. I could accept this rush - this is it, this is it, this is what I've been waiting for - and the fall that would come afterwards.

"Ah. Just remember, only tonight is free. After that, you will pay."

I knew he meant more than just money.

* * *

><p>Szayel finished cutting and wrapping, handing me half of his pile. He smirked as he told me his price, and how this was how I would pay for the evening's load. I could only smirk back, shaking my head slightly as we left the locked room, followed the noises back to where the party was. People had spread throughout the manor, most of them spilling out of the largest reception room and down the stairs, dancing and shouting and drinking in the wide, circular hallway at the entrance.<p>

I gave Szayel a curt nod, clinked my full glass against his own as I moved off, scanning the crowds. I made my way down the stairs, analysing people's faces, picking out the ones to approach. Then I saw him - the cutest, most innocent looking guy in the room - and all logic left me. Instead of going for the usual suspects, I decided I wanted a challenge. I knew I could get under this guy's skin, in more than one way.

I allowed people to brush, bash against me without complaint as I walked through what they seemed to have turned into a dance-floor as I sought him out. He seemed to become even prettier the closer I got. Short, ash blonde hair framed his delicate face. Soft, hazel eyes seemed to flicker around the room nervously. He looked so out of place. I'd make sure he had a good time, tonight.

Finally, I reached him. I saw his eyes widen briefly as I approached him, and I wondered if he was scared. I didn't really care, though. I sidled up to him, rested an arm against the wall above his head, allowed my lips to brush his cheek as I moved to purr in his ear. He visibly tensed, and I couldn't help but chuckle.

"What's your name, cutie?"

I moved away slightly so I could catch his eyes as they danced between mine and God knows what else. Feeling impatient, I moved a hand to grip his chin gently, but enough to make him look at me. I could see his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.

"T-tesla... Umm, I'm sorry, but I'm actually taken-"

"No yer not."

I jumped slightly at the low growl, whipped my head around to see who had spoken. Where the hell had he come from? I flickered my eyes to - was his name Tesla? - to see him looking up at the guy with adoration. Shit, had I just got myself involved in some kind of drama? But oh sweet Jesus this guy was intimidating. He was tall as fuck and just as thin, black hair sweeping across one eye and over his shoulders. He wore an insane, cheshire grin that I kind of recognised, but couldn't quite but my finger on.

"Sorry Tes, y'know I ain't interested in your pussy ass. Now stop stalking me will ya, this guy-" He shoved a thumb in my direction "-looks like he's willin' ta offer ya what I ain't. Plus, you're starting ta piss off His Highness."

I placed a hand on Tesla's hip, ducked my mouth to his neck, heard his breath hitch, chuckled. But from the corner of my eye I could see the lanky guy gesturing with his head as he finished his sentence and I found myself wanting to look. But my eyes wouldn't stretch far enough to see and so I gave up, closing my eyes, moving to clamp my teeth around Tesla's earlobe. That was, until I heard the lanky guy bellow an order across the room.

"Oi, Shin! Getcha ass over here, will ya?"

I felt my body stiffen as my mind hoped to God that lanky guy wasn't shouting to who I thought he was. Half of me wanted to bury my face in Tesla's neck, hide, but I knew that I could never be mistaken for someone else, not with my hair. Plus, my curiosity always seemed to get the best of me... I pushed myself away from Tesla a little, turned my head to see who was answering lanky guy's hollering.

_Shit._

I tried to stop my jaw from dropping but it happened anyway and so I promptly snapped it shut again, swallowed heavily. My fears had been confirmed. Straight blonde bob, half-hidden under a flat cap. Bright, clashing shirt and trousers, and of course a fucking tie to top the look off. Although, I would have been able to recognise this guy even without all of those things. You see, he was the reason I knew lanky guy's smile; it matched the other's perfectly. It was kind of creepy.

When he reached lanky guy, he seemed to ignore his existence altogether. Instead of greeting the man, he simply cocked a hip and an eyebrow in my direction, opened that fucking annoying mouth of his. Why was he even here? If Szayel had invited him I was going to kick his ass, or at least demand some form of compensation.

"Well, if it isn't Ichi-chan… With his teeth on another man's neck."

"Shut the fuck up, Hirako."

It was an instantaneous response and I spat it out like it was sour. My eyes had narrowed and I could feel my lip curling, my temper rising, as he continued to stare at me as though I was something offensive that had latched itself onto his shoe. He had no right to fucking look down on me. I only became more frustrated when Hirako rolled his eyes, finally looking at lanky guy, who pulled a hand down over his face, massaged his jaw in an act of exasperation.

I watched as Hirako tried to pout but ended up smirking anyway, his voice suddenly simpering, over-sweet. He placed one hand on the other guy's hip, rested his head on the thin chest, drawing deliberate circles with the index finger of the other hand on the guy's shirt. Lanky guy just continued to stare over his head, as though nothing was going on. I wondered how he put up with it.

"Ne, Nnoi, you gonna let him talk ta me like that?"

Lanky guy - Nnoi couldn't be his real name, could it? It had to be an awful nickname - simply huffed a little before speaking, still not looking at Hirako. He looked thoroughly bored. How long must these two have been together, for him to act so blasé towards the annoying little prick?

"Ya probably did somethin' ta piss him off."

Hirako pushed himself off the guy's chest with a huff, narrowed eyes and a pout shot in his direction. He walked slowly closer to me, straightening his tie slightly before putting his hands in his pockets, breaching my personal space with a cold glare, a taunt.

"Does Grimm know yer here?"

_I knew it._

I couldn't help myself. I stepped into the small distance between us, got right in his face without touching him, tried to keep my tone calm, my eyes steady on his as I replied. I could walk away from this. I didn't give a shit about anything this guy had to say. I couldn't let him get to me.

"It's none of his business. Nor is it yours."

Hirako's eyes, which had widened slightly only seconds before, now held a look I didn't want to acknowledge. It was that fucking condescending arrogance, that look that said 'I've already won.' It pissed me off, but not as much as the next sentence to spill from his lips.

"Who woulda thought it? So what, one little fight with yer ex and yer back on the blow, that it?"

Before I knew what I was doing I had a hand in the front of Hirako's shirt, shaking the little fucker, screaming in his face to shut the fuck up, shouting that he didn't have a fucking clue what he was talking about. But the prick just took it, that shit-eating smile taking up most of his face, his eyes shining with unrepressed glee. He was enjoying this. But it wasn't a fucking game - it was my life.

"I bet Grimm would love ta hear 'bout this."

"You fuckin'-"

I raised my fist back, watched as his smile simply continued, egging me on, making me want to smash those perfectly straight teeth, break that smug face of his. But before I could push my arm forward, feel the satisfaction that could have been my knuckles connecting with his flesh, lanky guy appeared behind me, grabbing my arm, holding it in the air.

"Calm the fuck down, kid."

I briefly struggled against the hold, but ended up looking like a squirming child. I eventually grit my teeth, stopped fighting it, and so lanky guy let go of me, allowing me to shake out my arm. It felt like it had been ripped from its socket. I shot a dark glare at Hirako. He was still smiling. My eyes flew what must have been seven foot in the air as lanky guy spoke up again, this time rolling his eyes, gesturing with a thumb to Hirako.

"I know he's annoying as fuck, but if ya listen to him, he actually makes sense sometimes."

Lanky guy started to walk towards Hirako lazily, throwing a hand in a half-wave over his shoulder. He yawned as though he was too tired for this shit, his words coming out rumbling and stretched as he circled an arm around Hirako's shoulders, leading him away.

"Go back ta yer pink-haired dealer friend, kid."

I watched as the two walked away, disappeared into the crowd. My chest was heaving and so I took a few deep breaths, shook my shoulders out. I wouldn't let this ruin my evening. I moved to turn back around, apologise to Tesla, tell him I'd make it up to him. But as I did so, I was met with empty space.

"Fuck!"

* * *

><p>I gave up on the Tesla idea pretty quickly, choosing instead to opt for the much easier option - scout out the addicts. It didn't take me long, and soon I had sold every single one of the wraps Szayel had given me, bar my own of course. I hadn't seen Szayel since we parted ways, though, and so I decided to look for him, after a quick trip to the bathroom. Another piss, another line or two.<p>

As I moved throughout the house, I felt decidedly on edge. The almost-empty corridors felt as though they were filled with people, filled with eyes that focused only on me. Heads turned as I walked past, glares and pitying glances. What was going on? It felt as though everyone knew who I was, what I was, what I had done. My steps hurried but there was still no sign of pink hair, no filtering of soft laughter through the air.

The house suddenly felt much bigger. I decided to go into a room, close myself off in a smaller space, rack up a few more lines. I had to get away from all of these people, wherever they had come from. But as I opened door after door I found myself quickly pulling them shut again, apologising, shaking my head. In every bed, against every wall, every floor, any available surface, there were people fucking.

Occasionally I would catch the light reflecting off beads of sweat, admire the moving shadows for a while. Everyone was too wasted to notice. But the noises started to get to me, scratch at my ears, my pulse, my throat. The moans and groans seemed only to grow louder with each room, pushing down on my chest, making me feel trapped but most of all, alone. I had just slammed shut a door, pulled my hand back away from my eyes, when I saw it.

This couldn't be happening again.

Was it someone else, or was I really hallucinating? I found myself unable to move as I watched her walk further away, a small swing to her curvaceous hips, her long auburn hair flowing behind her. I shook my head, but she didn't disappear. I felt like I was going to be sick. I wanted to run after her, talk to her, see what the attraction was - she was so _small, _so petite and feminine, even I could see that - what would be the point?

I wanted to ask her what was going on. I wanted to ask her if Grimmjow had really broken up with her, if it had all been one fucking big lie. Had he told her anything at all? I reached out a hand, tried to move my feet, why did I feel so _heavy? _I called out her name, blinked once, twice, but she was gone. As soon as I realised this, my feet felt all too light and I was running, darting, trying to find her, find Szayel, find anyone who could hold me down, ground me, make me feel real.

But I couldn't catch her, I couldn't even catch myself - where were my thoughts, what was I thinking, where the fuck was I? - and I started to wonder if I was really running at all. Perhaps this was all a dream? Yes, that had to be it. This was just one of those dreams, the ones that seemed to last an age, yet I would only become a day older when I awoke from them. Soon I would open my eyes, bury my face into the chest of the man I loved, tell him all about this nightmare, spill my fears for him to battle.

I felt my hand gliding against something smooth, cold, realised I was dragging it against the walls as I ran - where was I running, where could I go? - realised that it was the same hand that I had smashed the mirror with - but did that really happen? It couldn't have - that the bandage was gone, blood dripping steadily from my knuckles. It was warm but not at all comforting, like someone holding my hand whilst threatening to kill me.

Then I felt it. It started as a heavy feeling, a weight on my chest, forcing me to breathe heavier yet try to keep it even, hold it down. My mouth filled with the telltale liquid, warm and sweet and salty, making my throat contract and my chest heave as I ran faster, pushed my way through doors, no longer caring who I interrupted or how hard they were screwing.

Finally I pushed into a brightly lit room, my mind taking mere seconds to recognise the white walls, the tub, the shower, the toilet. I hurtled myself straight ahead, grabbed the toilet seat as though it might save me, my knees cracking against the tile, unemotional tears pushed from my eyes as I squeezed them shut, my retching violent as I emptied to contents of my stomach and more.

Eventually it passed, my head feeling heavier than it ever had, my limbs shaking with the effort of simply holding my body up. As I pulled at the flush my eyes caught the contents of the bowl, bright and disgusting and red. Blood, again. I allowed my head to drop on one side of the seat, let my eyes droop. I snapped them back open when it felt like I was slipping, my entire body jerking at the action, my limbs taking to time no screech their resentment.

What was I doing? It felt as though I was falling - not just into the bowl on which my head lay, but back into everything - it was like I was being swallowed up by this, this lifestyle, by myself. This was not her torture. I sniffed and smiled as I realised, bile rising to my throat once more. This was my own. I had put this on myself, this punishment. I didn't care. I deserved it.

* * *

><p>My eyes felt like lead as I tried to pry them open. I tried to move my left hand to rub it against them, but it wouldn't move. I tried my right, and cried out at the sharp pain that ran throughout it. That woke me up. My eyes felt glued together as I ripped them open, tried to work out where I was without moving. I could feel the scratchy fabric of one of Szayel's old blankets against my bare back, the ache, the sickness that I knew wasn't a hangover. It had been a long time since I had suffered something like this. A comedown.<p>

I tried to lift my head, crying out again as what felt like a knife cut into the flesh of my neck. I pushed against the pain, eventually sitting upright, twisting my head from side to side to try to ease the awful crick I had developed. As I leant back slightly I felt my left arm flop uselessly to my side, completely numb. I chuckled a little as I realised that I had slept on my hand, on the toilet seat. It made me think back to all the times I had fallen asleep on the kitchen floor in the flat, my head against a cupboard or my hand in the refrigerator.

I shook both of my arms, my left slowly coming back to life, before I stretched them over my head. The blanket fell from around my shoulders and I looked around the bathroom I was apparently in, trying to find where I had thrown my shirt. Having spotted the lump of fabric in the corner of the room, I crawled over to it, turning it the right way round, cocking my head to the side.

_Shit._

The collar was coated in blood. I tentatively brought it to my face, sniffed at it. It stank of puke and booze and sweat.

_Wait._

Images flashed through my mind and I tried to categorise them into real and imaginary. They didn't play like a film reel - soft, coherent, linear - but like a messy collection of three-second-long clips, the audio that accompanied them fuzzy, barely understandable. I tried to calm myself down as the panic began to rise. I couldn't help but ask myself what I had done, what did I think I was _doing? _

I felt my brows furrowed as I slowly pushed myself up to stand, my stomach jittery as I shuffled to the sink, throwing the stained shirt in my hand into the bath. I turned the cold tap with difficulty, taking my time to splash my face, my mind slowly ticking, trying to make me remember. I reached for the hand towel, scrubbing it over my face hard, before adjusting the mirror so I could see what kind of state I looked.

I felt my lips slowly pull up in sick satisfaction. All of the bad feelings, the guilt, seemed to disappear as I observed my own smirking reflection. My eyes were dull and bloodshot, heavy bags showing what little sleep I must have had. My skin was pallid, sweating, my body still shaking slightly. From my nose ran two trails of red, flowing stickily over my lips, down my chin, some smeared across my cheek, on the towel.

I no longer felt the need to ask myself what I was doing. I didn't even need to ask what I was going to do from now on. I simply washed my face again, got back down on my bruised knees, closed the toilet seat. Pulled out what was left of the large wrap in my back pocket, my old Arrancar card from my wallet in the other. Chopped one, two. It stung as I inhaled the substance almost desperately, wishing for it to take me away again.

As my heartbeat rose I leant back on my knees, let out a half-relaxed breath as the effect swept over me like a wave. I rubbed my stinging nose with the back of my hand, closed my eyes, smiled. But then my eyelids shot open again as I heard the crashing of the door into the wall. I span my head around to see who had burst in, but before I had the chance my head was thrust to one side, my cheek burning as a small palm connected with it sharply.

"What the-"

"What are you _doing_?"

The voice was high, shrieking, made me want to shut my eyes again. But I had to see. I cradled my stinging cheek as I brought my gaze up to meet whoever the speaker was. I think I knew, deep down. I just didn't know _why_. My eyes were met with pretty grey, strawberry-blonde eyebrows pulled firmly over them. Round cheeks, an angry little pout. My eyes moved blearily over the rest of her form before looking back at her face.

For a moment, I thought I saw my mother. Anger quickly took over the guilt that had begun to seep into my skin, told me that I was sick to even think that way. This woman - this _girl - _was not my mother. She didn't even look like her - no one ever could. A million and one things ran through my mind in that moment. Angry thoughts, bitter feelings, sympathy - but most of all confusion.

Why was she _here?_

"Kurosaki-kun!"


	10. Are You Ten Years Ago

**_A/N: Hello again! Sorry for the slightly longer wait on this chapter, it took a little more editing than normal (it's a hard life being a perfectionist, I tell ya) but I hope you enjoy it! As ever, thank you to those who have read and reviewed so far. I look forward to seeing what you think of this chapter, it's one of my favourites, if not my favourite :) Also, just to let you know, this is the second to last chapter._**

**_Here we go, hold on tight..._**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nine: Are You Ten Years Ago<strong>

_When I feel like this,_

_When I'm just so sick _

_Of feeling less than perfect._

_Is it right for me?_

_I never fight to see_

_If coming clean would get to me._

_I feel myself holding back._

_I feel the pressure, It's finally back._

_I'm taken._

_- Are You Ten Years Ago, Tegan and Sara_

* * *

><p>"<em>He's in there. Does not look good, bro."<em>

"_Thank you."_

_With a barely noticeable bow, Szayel dismissed the random teenager who had approached him mere moments ago, informing him that his 'nut-job friend with the wild hair' was in his master bathroom suite, apparently having an intimate affair with the toilet bowl. With a sigh, Szayel rolled his eyes, pushing open the door. _

_Before he could close it again, a small hand had wrapped around its edge, pushed it back open, a soft gasp leaving small lips. Golden eyes shifted from the figure now next to him to the young man currently groaning, his head slipping further and further into the toilet, the stench of vomit heavy in the air. Szayel tutted, pushed up his glasses, muttered almost silently._

"_You should leave. If he sees you, the consequences will be anything but good."_

_Ichigo could hear voices - one high, one low - but they were distorted, as though he were underwater. He tried to speak, but the only noise he could make was a rough groan, his head heavy, his eyelids heavier as he tried to lift them, tried to shift his head. Who was that? He slumped back down, his muscles protesting at his attempt to move, letting out another groan. This probably wasn't real anyway._

"_I need to see him."_

_Szayel could only sigh at her response, her persistence. Her hands were no longer covering her mouth - although her eyes still looked as scared as they had when she had first pushed her way into the room - but balled into fists at her sides, shaking slightly. He held his gaze on her for a while. When she didn't back down, he gave her a small nod._

"_Fine. But do be a little more careful, he almost caught you earlier this evening."_

_The girl seemed to relax, then, her hands unclenching, her gaze softening a little. She nodded in return, followed Szayel with soft steps towards the now-silent figure. Ichigo's legs were crumpled beneath him, his left hand supporting his head on the toilet seat, his right arm slung around the porcelain bowl. She gasped as she noticed his flickering eyelids, the sheen of sweat coating his pallid face._

"_What's wrong with him?"_

_The girl's voice was hushed in horror. Szayel sighed, offering the girl a lingering glance. He supposed she wasn't going to shut up unless he answered her. Not that it mattered, his friend was too out of it to understand anything, anyway._

"_Well, now. I'm afraid that would take an awfully long time to list… At the moment, though, he is suffering from a possible overdose."_

"_A-an overdose? Of what?"_

_Szayel's demeanour darkened as he regarded the petite figure in front of him._

"_You, of all people, should know the answer to that."_

_The girl could only swallow with sad eyes as she watched Szayel roll up his sleeves, grab a glass from the cabinet, fill it with water. He dropped gracefully to his knees next to Ichigo, cleared his throat._

"_Ichigo. Ichigo, could you get up?"_

_The figure groaned again, but seemed to make no attempt to move._

"_Ichigo. Here, I need you to drink this."_

_Ichigo tried once again to raise his head, his stomach churning, his muscles screaming at the effort. He managed to lift it off the seat, but as soon as he had done so his body gave up, his head slamming back down onto the hard surface, making the girl who was watching him wince._

"_Fuuuck. I… Urgh. Is that you, Szay?"_

_The words came out slurred, heavy, almost indistinguishable. Szayel replied in the affirmative, moving closer to his friend in order to wrap an arm around him, heft him up and into a sitting position. He placed the cold glass against Ichigo's forehead, watched him jerk slightly before pushing back against it._

"_Mmm."_

_Szayel moved the glass then, pressed it against Ichigo's lips, tilted it. The liquid ran uselessly down Ichigo's face, onto his… Disgustingly stained clothes. Szayel swallowed heavily at the amount of blood coating his friend's shirt. He thrust the glass towards the girl._

"_Take this."_

_She silently did as she was told, watched with wide eyes as Szayel shifted Ichigo slightly away from him, started pulling at the hem of his shirt. Ichigo's body flopped helplessly as his upper half was stripped, Szayel throwing the filthy garment into the furthest corner of the room with a sour expression. He held out an open hand, snatching it away again when the girl hurriedly placed the glass into his palm. He wasted no time in pressing it once more to his friend's lips._

"_Ichigo. You need to drink this. Open your mouth."_

_Ichigo pushed at the glass sloppily with a half-working hand, his mouth opening, but not to drink. His eyelids began to flicker more rapidly as he tried to open them again, incomprehensible muttering falling from his lips. Szayel was thankful he was able to translate it, having seen Ichigo in this state more than once. _

"_Szay… Who's 'at?"_

_Szayel hummed nonchalantly in his throat, shot a glare at the girl who was sitting quietly behind him, seemingly out of sight. Had Ichigo heard them?_

"_Who's who, Ichigo?"_

"_Th'girl."_

"_There is no girl, Ichigo. It is just me. Now, open your mouth."_

_Ichigo finally did as he was told, trying to gulp down the slowly warming water, but finding it impossible due to Szayel's strictly enforced sips. Eventually, the glass had been emptied - albeit mostly down Ichigo's chest - and Ichigo pushed himself away from Szayel, reaching once more for the bowl, his retching loud but unfruitful. He cursed as he rested his head back on the seat, silent tears falling down his cheeks. After a few minutes of pained panting, he spoke again, a little clearer._

"_Szay… I need him."_

"_Hmm?"_

"_I need him... To come take me home."_

"_Who might that be, Ichigo? Is there someone you would like me to call?"_

_Szayel flipped his phone open as he spoke, his fingers hovering over the touch-screen numbers, a heavy suspicion in his chest that he could only hope wouldn't become true. Ichigo was nodding against the cool porcelain, his eyes opening slightly as he tried to look at his friend._

"_G-Grimm…"_

_Szayel's mouth fell slightly slack but he quickly snapped it shut again, moving his eyes from Ichigo to the girl behind them. She had a hand clamped over her mouth, her eyebrows pulled together as tears pooled in her large grey eyes. He sighed, returning his gaze to Ichigo, his fingers hesitant over the keypad. This could work. It would, at the very least, be an interesting experiment._

"_Ichigo, are you sure?"_

"_Why…"_

"_You do realise this is a terrible idea, do you not?"_

"_W-why? He looks after me. I need him, Szay. I need him to come get me... I want to go home."_

_Ichigo's voice wasn't strained, wasn't upset. He simply sounded matter-of-fact, as though such a thing were a completely normal request. Szayel could hear sniffling as he tapped at his phone slowly. When he turned around to aim a 'shh' at the girl, he saw she had both hands clamped over her mouth, her shoulders shaking as tears streamed from her eyes. She shook her head at Szayel, her eyes pleading. He only looked away._

"_Okay, then. I'm going to call him."_

_His finger finally pushed the call button, quickly flicking the phone onto loudspeaker. The ringing was almost deafening, echoing off the tiled walls, as two figures waited with tense shoulders - the person who should have been tense slumped heavily against the toilet, seemingly uncaring._

"_You have reached the voicemail serv-"_

"_Again."_

"_Ichigo, I doubt he is going to answer. It is past four in the morning."_

"_He'll come. He has to."_

_Szayel pressed to call again, despite the soft sobs coming from behind him._

"_You have reached the voicemail service of-"_

"_Again."_

_This time, when Szayel pressed redial, the call did not ring through. A click could be heard, followed by a heavy rustling sound. A voice eventually snapped out of the phone in Szayel's hand, its roughness causing the girl in the room to gasp._

"_What the fuck d'ya want, Szay? It's the middle of the fuckin' night."_

_It was not Szayel who spoke first. It was a quiet, shaky voice that fell from slightly curved lips, all too calm._

"_Grimm…"_

_A shuddering breath could be heard through the loudspeaker._

"_It's Ichigo, dear brother. He says he…" Szayel let out a heavy sigh. "He says he needs you to come take him home."_

_The voice wavered only slightly as it replied._

"_Don't call me again."_

_The call was cut off, leaving them with the dial tone. Taking a deep breath against her tears, the girl rose up from her seat on the floor, walked quickly to the door. Swinging it open, she ran out, the door slamming violently behind her. Wailing, intermittent with broken sobs, slowly dissipated as she ran further from the room. Szayel let out a sigh, replacing the phone in his pocket. He raised an eyebrow at his friend._

"_Ichigo. Do you think you're going to be sick again?"_

_His friend only shook his head against the cool surface of the toilet seat._

"_Let's get you to a room, then-"_

"_No."_

_Szayel frowned at his friend, then, before shaking his head, moving to stand. He wasn't going to argue with Ichigo, especially when he was in such a state. At least he had a bit more colour in his face, now. He'd survive. Plus, it might be a nice wake-up call for him, waking up on a bathroom floor._

"_Fine then, sleep here. I'll turn on the floor heating."_

_With that, he was gone._

* * *

><p><em>She waited in the dark hallway until Szayel had left the bathroom, squeezing the soft, folded mass against her chest. She had managed to control her crying, her hiccups, by now. She still couldn't believe what she had seen, though. What she had heard. Making sure no one was watching her, she walked back to the bathroom, slipped quietly through the door, locking it afterwards. Szayel would kill her if he caught her, she knew it.<em>

_She squinted against the bright light burning her stinging eyes. It took her a few moments of fumbling to find the switch, but soon the room had been plunged into a soothing darkness. Nodding to herself, she took soft steps towards the figure, who was still slumped heavily on and around the toilet bowl. As her eyes adjusted she could see the outline of his face, relaxed in sleep. She smiled a little._

_She slowly fell to her knees, surprised when she noticed how warm the tiles beneath her were. Although, she supposed she shouldn't really be. After all, she knew that Szayel had only the best intentions, even if she didn't completely understand them. She knew that he cared for his friend, even if he didn't have the best way of showing it. In fact, it was their love for Kurosaki Ichigo that had united them in the first place._

_She crawled slowly closer to the unconscious figure, reached out with a shaking hand to touch him. Her fingers fell lightly over the curve of his bare spine, the thin hairs at the back of his neck, his strong jaw. He really was beautiful. Even like this - taller, broader, older - even like he had been. He had been beautiful when he was broken, but he had become even more so when he had been saved. She remembered seeing him - them - the two walking together, hands linked. He had been so _bright.

_Ichigo shifted slightly and she snatched her hand back, placed her fingers against her lips, closed her eyes, prayed he wouldn't wake. That would ruin everything. She wanted to stay for as long as she could. She couldn't believe how close she was to him, that she could touch him. Then he mumbled something into his hand, his eyes scrunching up. She knew what she thought she had heard, but it couldn't be true._

"_Okaa-chan…"_

_She shook her head - he must be dreaming - as she remembered her reason for coming back here. She unfolded the slightly scratchy fabric in her arms - it had been the softest she could find in the giant house - placed it gently around Ichigo's shoulders. He sighed softly as she did so, nuzzled his head into his own hand. She could feel her eyes stinging again, tears threatening to return, but she shook her head, tried to smile._

_Shifting a little closer, she reached out her hand again, pushed it through the slightly matted orange hair that stuck out in all directions from Ichigo's head. She leant forward, rested her forehead against his shoulder. She wanted to tell him everything, but she didn't think she could - even with him unconscious. She knew she had to tell him one thing, though. She might not get a second chance._

"_I'm so sorry, Kurosaki-kun. This is all my fault."_

_She hiccuped, then, the tears she had been trying to resist once again falling. She removed her head from his shoulder, leant forward again, placed her lips against his damp forehead. She felt like such a coward - she wasn't worthy, she never had been, especially not now - but she knew she had to help him, somehow. She only hoped she could._

"_I'll make this better."_

_She pulled away, her fingers dragging back through that hair, her eyes sad and damp but determined, strong. She smiled as she realised that she wouldn't be this person - she wouldn't be here to help him right now, to return the favour - if it wasn't for Ichigo. She clamped her eyes shut, placed a hand over her face as her shoulders shook with silent sobs. She knew he didn't remember her, she could understand why. What she couldn't understand - couldn't forgive - were her own actions. She had hurt him._

"_I promise."_

* * *

><p>"What are you <em>doing<em>? Kurosaki-kun!"

It didn't take me long to regain my composure. I pushed myself up off my knees unhurriedly, brushing off my jeans, standing to my full height. I took a step closer to the girl, looked down at her, held her gaze. I could feel my fingers twitching, feel my heartbeat too quick inside my chest. She had picked the wrong fucking time to walk in. I spoke softly, a forced smile on my face, but she still flinched. I didn't care. I had given up controlling my anger long ago.

"What the fuck does it look like, huh, _Princess_?"

She didn't seem to have an answer for me. Instead, her eyes began to shine with unshed tears, her cheeks quickly becoming increasingly pink. What, was she going to cry? I let out a harsh laugh, watched her flinch away from me again. Shaking my head, I started to move towards the door. I needed to find a shirt. I needed to get away from her.

"Wait!"

There was something soft tugging at my wrist. Realising it was her hand, I quickly wrenched my arm away. It felt as though I had been burned where she touched me, but I resisted the urge to rub at it. I stopped walking, shot her a glare, my temper flaring again. I didn't even care that this was a girl I was dealing with - I would punch her if I had to. After all, it wasn't just any girl. It was _her._ Inoue Orihime.

"_Don't _fuckin' touch me."

I started to move again. I needed to get away from her, find Szayel, ask him why the fuck exactly Inoue was at his after-party. Why he had lied to me, made me think I was going crazy. Why he had fucking disappeared when I needed him. Inoue didn't make another attempt to touch me, thank God. That didn't stop her from yelling at me, though.

"You can't keep doing this!"

I stopped again. She was lucky - if she was that desperate an argument, she was going to get one - I was in the mood to hurt someone. I would have preferred it to be Szayel, but she was here and practically begging for it. I tilted my head to the side, spat out the words at her. I was hoping she would disappear at any minute, get out of every fucking aspect of my life.

"Why the fuck not?"

She opened her mouth to say something, but I cut her off.

"More to the point, what the fuck do _you _care? What are you even doing here?"

She was looking at me, away from me, around the room. She blinked, tears slowly falling from her fluttering eyelashes. She looked lost. Satisfied with her silence, her inability to answer me, I walked towards the door again. The look of concern in her eyes made me feel sick to my stomach. She didn't seem to make a move follow after me, this time. But as I reached for the door-handle, there she was, suddenly in front of me.

I growled at her as she blocked the doorway, arms outstretched. Her eyes looked different, now. They were still sad, tears still fell from them, but there was a look of determination in those grey depths that made me stop, made me furrow my eyebrows at her, confused. I recognised this face. How was that possible?

I could hear a faint ringing. Then, it was louder as she thrust a phone in my direction, its screen only a few centimetres from my face. I tried to read the number. It seemed a little familiar, but no names jumped out at me. I moved my eyes back to hers. I don't know why, but I suddenly felt curious - no, not just curious, I felt like I _had _to take the phone from her - I guess it's true what they say. Everything happens for a reason. I moved the phone to my ear in time to hear a soft, feminine voice.

"Unohana Retsu's office. This is Isane speaking, how may I help?"

I shut the phone off immediately, my heart beating a hundred times a minute as I ripped it away from my ear, observed the girl in front of me with wide eyes, a shaking head. Every time I looked at Inoue, now, something tugged at my heart, a switch flickered in my brain, never quite making it all the way to the 'on' position. Who _was _this girl, exactly? To address me like that, to be in this house, to know the number to my old therapist?

"How… Who…"

I cleared my throat heavily, shook my head again before standing tall once more, pushing my shoulders back, shoving the phone back into her hands. I looked right into those eyes, my voice soft again, only half the anger it had held before present.

"Why are you doing this? Why are you getting involved?"

She relaxed against the door, her eyes dropping from mine. Her response was quick, quiet, cutting.

"I was already involved, Kurosaki-kun."

"Bullshit."

She looked up at me again, then, her eyes hurt and pleading. What was that about? Then she was pushing away from the door - I don't know why but as she stepped forwards, I stepped back, was I scared? - pulling something from her wrist, bringing her hands behind her head. She was putting her hair up. I watched with confusion as she gathered those long auburn strands, pulled them up into a bun at the back of her head.

It wasn't until I saw the shorter layers fall out of the knot, frame her face, that I realised. It wasn't until I watched her pull her fringe further across her face, relax her hands at her sides, that I found my arm reaching forwards, my fingers outstretched, my mind running a mile a minute as it tried to piece everything together, make anything make sense. Her skin was as soft as I barely-remembered it as my fingers reached her cheek.

"It's _you_…"

* * *

><p><em>June 26h 2006, 01:45<em>

_Ichigo pulled his heavy body up the dingy stairs. He was tired beyond belief, his mind wandering to dream of fluffy pillows and warm quilts, but he had one more thing to do before he could sneak back home. He only hoped he hadn't been locked out again. He rubbed his eyes - how long would he have to stick around, tonight? - before he pushed open the rotting door. The floorboards creaked as he entered, his head down, one hand rummaging in his pocket as the other shut the door behind him._

_Everything was a little too quiet. The place still looked the same - as though it hadn't been cleaned in years, dust and grime coating every available surface, other than the owner's precious desk - but lacked a certain hulking presence. The three girls were sat in the corner, on their designated mattress, playing cards in silence and Ichigo wondered, not for the first time, why they behaved so much like well-trained pets. He supposed that was all they were, to him._

"_Yo."_

_The girls flinched, but made no move to look at him, let alone answer his greeting. Why should they? It's not as though he had ever made an effort to talk to them before, and it had been at least a year or so, now. He watched them as they slowly resumed their card game. The blonde, the one with the tanned skin and the dead emerald eyes, kept looking towards the door. The dark-haired girl had her back to him, so he couldn't gauge her reaction. That just left the last one._

_She was sitting directly opposite of where he stood. When he looked up to her face, he saw her staring right back at him, her small mouth forming a pout - he couldn't tell if it was deliberate or not. Her eyes fell from his quickly as she was elbowed in the side by one of the other women. Ichigo continued to watch her. There was something different about her, compared to the other two. For one, she was a lot younger. She couldn't be much older than Ichigo himself. Had she always been here?_

_Ichigo watched as she pushed her hair behind her ears. It was short, around her jaw, and fell unevenly, as though it had been hacked away by something blunt. That wasn't what drew Ichigo to her, though - it was the colour. A colour so like his own. No, not his own - his mother's. Once the girl had played her turn, her eyes began to flicker to and from Ichigo. When he caught them again, he offered her a small smile. This one didn't look as well-trained. Maybe she would talk. _

_He watched as her cheeks flushed, her eyes moving wildly as the women either side of her rose to stand, stretching, nodding once at the young girl before moving past Ichigo, leaving the apartment. He held up a hand by way of good-bye, his eyes still on the girl sat in front of him. It must have been their turn, their shift, their time to earn their money for the disgusting man who ran this little den. Once they had slammed the door behind them, Ichigo moved towards the remaining girl._

"_Where's Yammy?"_

_The girl backed away as he approached, shoving herself as close to the wall as she could get. Seeing this, Ichigo stopped moving forward, dropping instead to sit on the floor. He knew these girls were weird - they'd have to be, to stay here, to stay with him - but he needed to finish his job so he could get out of there._

"_Look, I just need to give him this-"_

_He held up the wad of cash, waved it back and forth slightly. The girl's eyes widened, her head shaking slightly, her lip trembling. Ichigo couldn't understand why, his brow furrowing further as he continued his sentence._

"_Then I can go home."_

_She seemed to relax a little, then. Her knees unfurled from her chest, her eyes seeming to clear as her breath evened out. Ichigo looked at the cash in his hand before looking back to the girl. No way. Shit. Had he just given her the completely wrong impression? He shifted himself so he could push the notes into his back pocket again._

"_Shit, it's nothing like _that. _This is money from deals, I need to pick up before I go. I'm not even… Wait."_

_He crawled slowly over to the girl on all fours - making sure that she wasn't freaking out, that he wasn't scaring her again as he did so - and eventually he managed to sit in front of her, lean forwards, get a closer look at her face. She was so _young.

"_What's your name?"_

_The girl's lips trembled slightly before she took a deep breath, licked them, opened them. Nothing came out. She squeezed her eyes shut then, shook her head, covered her face with her hands. It was Ichigo's turn to freak out - he couldn't cope with anyone crying, let alone girls - reaching a hand out to her, stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers. Her skin was so soft under his calloused, dirty hands._

"_It's okay. You don't have to tell me. Oh Christ, please don't cry."_

_He moved his hand, then, placed it over hers, brought them away from her face slowly. He ran the same hand through her hair, pushing it back behind her ear. That's when he saw it. A big, purple bruise. Teeth marks. He swallowed heavily, his blood turning cold, his eyes unable to stray - was there more where that had come from? - until the girl noticed his staring, pushed his hand away, placing one of her own on her neck to hide it. Ichigo spoke up again. He really hoped she'd answer this question._

"_How old are you?"_

_Her eyes filled up with tears again, her hands reaching out for him, clawing at his wrists. He held his palms open to her, his heart beating heavily against his ribs. This couldn't be happening. What could he do? How could he help her? She opened her mouth again, but the only thing that came out was a choking sob. Man, he knew Yammy was scum, but to stoop as low as this… He could only hope his suspicions were incorrect._

"_Calm down. Calm down, okay? I need you to tell me. I want to help you."_

"_Th-thirteen."_

_No._

_Before either of them really knew what was happening, Ichigo was standing, dragging the girl with him. She was too shocked to protest - she could shake her head but she didn't have the strength to pull away - as he pulled her close to his side, wrapped an arm around her, walked her to the door. Pulling open the wood as quietly as possible, he looked out into the dark hallways. All clear._

"_Be quiet."_

_Ichigo muttered to the already-silent girl. His heart was beating too fast - what the fuck was he doing? - as he lead them both down the creaky staircase, hoping with every breath he took that Yammy would not choose this particular moment in time to return home. Every small squeak, every quiet sigh of wind would make him tense, hold the girl a little closer to his side. Then he heard it. Loud, heavy footsteps that could only belong to one person, that one person, the person that could very well end his life if he got caught now._

_He pulled the girl into the nearest doorway, silently pushing the wood and closing it behind them. He could hear the girl's heavy breathing and so placed a hand over her mouth, his own whispering into her ear, telling her to be as quiet as possible. It felt as though time stood still as the two held their breath, waited for the noise to move past them. It reached them - Ichigo could hear Yammy's heavy breathing, he was so close - and stopped. _

_Then Yammy began yelling - the two figures behind the door freezing where they stood, Ichigo trying to think of how the fuck he was going to get out of this one - into his phone. Ichigo relaxed a little as he heard him threatening what was probably another subordinate or errand boy, his steps starting to move away again. He slowly removed his hand from the girl's mouth, waited until he could hear the steps above him._

"_Quickly. We haven't got much time."_

_They moved as silently and as quietly as they could down the remaining stairs. As they reached the entrance to the building, they heard the indiscreet yelling of a raging Yammy, the slams of what was probably him ripping his apartment apart. Ichigo turned the girl quickly to face him, gripped her shoulders tightly, shook her slightly._

"_You need to listen to me. You need to run. Here-"_

_He removed one of his hands to pull out the wad of cash that still sat in his back pocket, shoving it into her hands. She tried to push it back to him, shaking her head, but he ignored her, shook her once more._

"_Run as far as you can. Find a taxi. Ask for the Kurosaki Clinic. You'll be looked after there, okay?"_

_She was crying silently, her head shaking more violently, her fingers clawing at Ichigo's chest around the money still in her hands. He pulled her close to him, wrapping his arms around her quickly before turning her around, pushing her further into the street._

"_W-wait!"_

_It was the girl. Her voice was so high, so scratchy, as though it hadn't been used in months._

"_What's your name?"_

_He gave her a wry smile before his eyes widened. He could hear thundering steps, yelled curses all too close. He moved quickly to the girl, walked her quickly away._

"_Ichigo. My name's Ichigo."_

_She looked up at him with wide, scared eyes._

"_Now run."_

_He gave her one last final shove before he ran back to the dingy building, slowing to a stop just before Yammy slammed open the front door. The girl continued to run, but she couldn't help but look back. The last she saw of Kurosaki Ichigo was his head being gripped in Yammy's large hand, his head being smashed into the pavement._

* * *

><p>"You were okay?"<p>

She nodded at me then, smiling, moving her hands to reach me, her fingers gently clawing at my forearms. But I couldn't smile back. I had to pull away, my head shaking. This might have been the girl that I had helped all those years ago, but that didn't stop the fact that she was also one of the reasons why I had lost the love of my life. An image of Grimmjow flickered through my mind and I felt my head shaking faster, my steps taking me away from her. She looked crestfallen, moved to speak, but I cut her off.

"I need to know something, Inoue."

She had been moving towards me, small steps, an arm outstretched - but she stopped, then. She nodded at me, her eyes once again threatening tears. I took a deep breath. At least she knew to keep her distance from me.

"Did… Did Grimmjow ever tell you anything, about what happened? About what we did?"

The tears fell as she nodded.

"Yes. He told me what happened."

I couldn't help it. I laughed. I wasn't happy, though. How could I be? Nothing made sense.

"And you wanted to stay with him? Ha! That's pathetic."

She nodded at me.

"Maybe it is pathetic, to want to cling onto someone you love so badly..."

Her teeth clamped around her bottom lip, her eyes not straying from mine. My heart skipped as she said that word - had Grimmjow ever said it back to her? The thought made me sick - and I wondered whether she might be making a personal attack at me. I wouldn't mind. I would deserve it, after all. I was the reason her boyfriend cheated on her.

"He told me everything, you know. And I _did _want to stay with him, until-"

I laughed again, but it was cut short by the steely gaze she was forcing upon me. I felt my spine stiffen, my gaze darken. Yeah, she was definitely that girl.

"Until he told me that he loves you."

_What._

I couldn't even respond, my mind whirring like an overworked machine. I supposed it was, really, especially recently. I could only force it to work harder, though, as I tried to work out exactly what it meant - why would Grimmjow have done what he did, if that were true? It didn't make any sense - unless… Unless it wasn't true at all.

"You're lying."

"Why would I lie?"

All I could do was stare at her as I tried to process the information. Why _would _she lie? What would she gain from it? Telling me that Grimmjow had said he loved - no, _loves _- me wouldn't help her reinstate her own relationship with him. If anything, it would jeopardise it. But one thing wasn't making sense. As usual, it was Grimmjow.

"Then why did he reject me?"

It was supposed to come out cutting, hard, but instead the words fell from my lips as I thought them, soft and unsure. I flickered my eyes back to Inoue's. Why did she look so… Concerned? It made me feel even more pathetic than I already did, being pitied by a young girl.

"Was that really the first time he's reacted like that?"

My first thought was _how did she know? _I honestly started to wonder if she was some kind of stalker - had she been there, in the background, waiting for an opportunity to waltz into Grimmjow's life? - but then I realised I had forgotten something. I wasn't the only one out of us who had been in a relationship with him. Had Inoue seen that side of him, too? I almost felt sorry for her.

It slowly started to click into place. That was how it had all started, wasn't it? The slow downwards spiral of my teenage life. It had started with him, ignoring me, pushing me away. Of him cutting me off without so much as an explanation. Then again, a year later. Only that time I had cut him, literally - I could still see the blood, him lying in that hospital bed - a fight over a false accusation only further proving my own weakness. Then yesterday - was it really only yesterday it had happened? It felt like a lifetime ago - he had said all of those cruel things, vocalised the thoughts that scared me the most.

How had I let this happen _again_?

"Why would he do this? Why would he do this to me again?"

I fell to the too-warm bathroom tiles, put my head in my hands. I felt sick. I felt really fucking sick. I was considering crawling back over to the toilet on which I had woke up but then there were small hands on my shoulders, grounding me. I couldn't glare at her. I felt so pathetic, breaking down in front of this girl. I wondered if she was secretly enjoying this in some sick way, seeing me in pain, but when I looked into those grey eyes once more, I knew I was the sick one.

"He's not inhuman, Kurosaki-kun, no matter how much he may act like it… I know he cares about you so, so much. I _know_ he still loves you."

Her eyes were welling up and instead of getting angry, I found myself wanting to stop them. All I could see was that thirteen-year-old girl, that _child_, who had been forced into a darkness that no person should ever suffer. She was still there, inside this young woman. How could I hate someone who had suffered as much, if not more, than I had? I swallowed heavily as she continued.

"He talked about you a lot, you know."

"Did it hurt?"

I couldn't help myself, blurting the question out as soon as I thought it. She smiled back. It was sad, but not. I couldn't get my head around this girl. What was she thinking? Why was she doing this?

"A little. But it doesn't matter now. What matters is that I can tell you things he could never tell you himself."

She shifted a little closer to me, whispered to me like it was a secret. Although I supposed it was, if it was Grimmjow's honest feelings.

"He thinks he hurts you, Kurosaki-kun. He's under this delusion that it would be better to cut off the pain as soon as possible, let you go, rather than continue hurting you. Do you understand?"

I shook my head at her as my brain translated her words. Grimmjow _what?_

"Not one bit."

She laughed a little, moving one of her hands to cover mine. It was so small, so warm. She was so much stronger than me, now. Was it her turn, to save me?

"Me neither. Now here's something I _really_ don't understand... Do you know why he wouldn't fight for you?"

I wanted to blurt out all of my fears - he never really wanted me, I was fucked up and he didn't want to deal with it, he had fallen out of love with me - but I could only shake my head, bite the inside of my lip, wait for her answer. How did she know all this?

"He thinks he'll never be good enough."

Her words slid through me like a katana. Now this, this just did not make a word of sense. I ran my head through the events of the previous evening, up until my meeting Szayel. I could still see it so clearly, Grimmjow skulking towards me like a predator, his words hot, piercing, his eyes not on me, his eyes… Even as I asked her, I knew the answer to the question.

"Then why did he tell me I wasn't good enough?"

Her head tilted, her eyes confused yet assured. Nothing like the girl I had met all those years ago. That quaking, silent girl. Where had she got this confidence from?

"Was he really talking to you?"

* * *

><p>The door clicked and swung open, but I only noticed once I heard the distinct clipping of Szayel's expensive shoes striking the tile. I look up from the girl to the man, suddenly remembering that I was seriously pissed off at him. He had a lot of explaining to do, and then some. Even so, he was the first one to speak, his tone light and sarcastic, as though <em>I <em>was the one in the wrong.

"My, my. How cosy."

His golden eyes fell coldly to the girl beside me and I flickered my own to her face. She was glaring at Szayel, that little pout back in full force, her eyebrows pulled together in the least threatening face ever. Then Szayel fell to the floor to join us, his legs crossed, his head tilted to the side as he continued to search Inoue's face. The cold look was gone, a burning curiosity now evident in his eyes.

"Well?"

Inoue nodded. I couldn't help but look between the two figures, my eyebrows tightening into a scowl.

"Anyone want to explain to me what the fuck is going on here?"

Both figures started, looking at me as though they had forgotten I was there. I could feel myself growing more irritated. That only increased when Szayel pulled out his phone, started tapping at the screen, seemingly ignoring me.

"Oi-"

The phone was in my face. It was ringing. This time I could read the contact's name clearly. Still scowling, I pulled it to my ear. This was it. I had between now and the time the call connected to make a decision. Although, as I took a deep breath in through my nose, blowing it out shakily, I realised there had only ever been one answer - and it was the complete opposite of what I had done up until then.

"Unohana Retsu's office. This is Isane speaking, how may I help?"

"Hi. I, er, I need to make an appointment."

"Of course, may I take a name?"

"Kurosaki Ichigo."

I heard the girl muttering to herself as she searched the system. I wonder if my details were even on their documents still.

"Ah, Kurosaki-san. It's been over three years since we last saw you, is that correct?"

I felt uncomfortable for some reason. Had it really been three years? That made me feel so old, yet so naïve at the same time. I felt shame tug at my still-unsettled stomach, imagining the woman on the other end of the phone judging me, what I had done.

"Yeah, about that…"

"If you'd like, we can fit you in this afternoon for an emergency appointment?" Her voice was not the judgemental tone I expected, but soft, calm, professional. It soothed me almost instantly.

"I- Uh, yeah. That'd be perfect."

"Okay, you're all booked in for five-thirty. We'll see you soon."

The woman hung up with a click, and I couldn't help but stare dumbly at Szayel's phone for a few more moments. Things seemed to be moving fast. Really fucking fast. I looked up to Szayel, my anger towards the man fluctuating. I still didn't understand anything, let alone what went through that pink head of his, but I knew one thing - he was a true friend, and I should trust him, no matter what he had done. I pushed myself up to stand.

"Szay, can I borrow a car?"

The man smirked up at me before pushing himself up to join me.

"Why, of course. I shall call a driver. I suppose I ought to find you a clean shirt, too?"

I found myself scratching the back of my head, thanking him as he swept out of the room. Sighing, I turned to Inoue.

"I, er… Could you leave? I wanna take a shower."

The girl's cheeks flushed slightly - what was that about? - before she nodded, giving me a small smile before turning away. Before she reached the door, I reached for her shoulder, watched her wide grey eyes as they turned back to me.

"Uh… Thanks, Inoue."

Her cheeks darkened, then, before she nodded, turned around, quickly leaving the room. I followed behind her slowly, closing and locking the door, before moving back into the middle of the room. After the spectrum of emotions I had been forced through that morning, I felt decidedly numb, and so, so tired. Maybe a hot shower would wake me up, make my brain work, so that I could make more sense of this fucking situation.

Grimmjow.

Inoue.

Szayel.

Myself.

I didn't know how to get my head around the fucking web we were tangled in. Connected by thin strings that looked so fragile, so easily breakable. Little did I know how strong they really were.

* * *

><p>"I have some errands to run in town, I shall be sharing the car."<p>

Or so he said. I knew that wasn't it, though. He wanted to explain things to me. Or, at least, I hoped he did.

"Spill, Szayel."

He moved his head slowly to meet my eyes, a smile forming on his lips. It wasn't wide, wasn't insane like his usual grins. It was small, the apology apparent behind it putting me on edge.

"This would not have worked, had I told you. You understand that, don't you, Ichigo?"

I could only furrow my brow in response, confused. I heard him sigh, watched him wave a hand.

"I needed to push you to your very limits, to show you the truth."

I was about to ask him what the fuck exactly he meant, but then it clicked. Starrk. Luppi. Hirako. Inoue. There was no way it could have been a coincidence, all of them showing up in one evening - let alone them finding and talking to me. My head ached as my frown deepened, as I relived each of those conversations, the effect they had had on me. Then there was Yammy - I knew Szayel wouldn't have wanted him to talk to me, or vice versa, but the fact that I had seen him, felt that instinctual fear - and Szayel's storeroom. His words.

"_You should know by now, shouldn't you? Whether this truly will be a one-off evening, that is."_

I swallowed thickly, nodded to show that I was beginning to understand. Such a plan had been a fucking risky move on his part. Then again, I guessed I shouldn't have expected any less from Szayel. With him, it was very much all or nothing - that was the way he had always operated.

"And Inoue?"

"Hmm? What about Orihime?"

I frowned at the familiar use of her name, the way he was holding on to his precious information, even at a time like this. I needed to know how they knew each other, what they were to each other - were they just acquaintances? Were they friends? Why didn't he tell me? - I needed him to tell me everything. Otherwise, I might just have gone mad. I heard him sigh heavily, watched him move to look out of the car window once more.

"She loves you. Did you know that?"

I felt my eyes widen, sheer shock making my mind whirr even faster behind my thumping temples, try to fit the pieces of information together - without avail.

"_What?_"

His eyes were sad, disconcerting, as he looked back at me.

"I don't believe I stuttered."

I could only continue to glare at him. Was this some kind of sick joke? It had to be. He was really stooping low, to mess with me at such a time. He sighed again. It was starting to piss me off. My head started pounding again, and so I leant back in the seat, rubbed my eyes with my fingers, waited for him to continue with as much patience as I could fathom.

"I've know Orihime for years. I met her before I met you, in fact. Before she ended up at Yammy's. She's loved you, Ichigo, ever since the day you saved her. Perhaps even before."

I couldn't take it in. But then something struck me. I sat up straight, much to the protest of my head. I placed a hand over my forehead to briefly rub at my temples, before throwing it in his direction.

"Wait, wait. So you know how she ended up in that den?"

I watched his eyes darken and could feel my pulse pick up. How had I not known any of this? Goddamn Szayel, he always kept his cards so close to his chest.

"She was sold, part of a business transaction. Her brother was an addict, with an exceedingly large debt hanging over his head. He was too far gone to deal, to do anything to pay back his dues. So, Yammy made him an offer. His debt would be cleared, for the reasonable price of his thirteen-year-old sister."

Before I knew what was happening, I had Szayel by the scruff of the neck, pushed against the window, shaking him, a growl forming in my throat.

"You _knew? _You knew all of this, and you didn't do a _fucking thing_ to help her?"

His grip was surprisingly strong as he grasped my wrist, tore it away from his person. It felt as though his bony fingers would tear through my flesh as he replied, voice filled with ice and regret.

"You seem to have forgotten, Ichigo, the position I was in. I might be at the top of this twisted chain now, but back then-"

He threw my hand away from him.

"Back then, I was in no higher a position than you. What could I have done, Ichigo? Pray tell. If I had smuggled her out as you had, where would I be this instant?"

I shot my head away from him, glared out of the window. I knew he was right. What I had done had been reckless, dangerous. I was lucky I had survived. But _still. _I didn't regret it. I had helped her without even knowing the extent to how fucked up her situation had been.

"In any case." Szayel muttered. "That's not the point. The point is that _you _saved her, and she's had this unhealthy obsession with you ever since."

He waved his hand again, the tone of his voice confusing me. I dismissed it, something else flickering through my mind.

"I don't get it… If she's so fucking obsessed with me or whatever, why the fuck did she get with Grimmjow?"

"Ah, that would be where her obsession truly shines."

His voice was mocking as he threw his hands up dramatically. I offered his pause a deadpan glare, but he made no move to hurry up his explanation, instead moving to lean his head against his hand, his elbow resting against the car door, the fingers of his other hand drumming against his lap.

"She told me this in utmost confidentiality, I will have you know. Although, you know me. I never intended to keep it as such…"

"Fucking spit it out, Szayel. My head hurts."

He offered me a small smirk as he continued.

"She wanted to know what kind of person you would fall in love with."

"I- What?"

"It would appear she wanted to know who the great Kurosaki-kun would fall in love with, and so she pursued him... Little did she know, she would end up falling in love with him herself. I let it happen, I'm ashamed to admit. I thought it might aid my idiot brother, show him how much he needed you."

I watched him sigh yet again, my eyes wide, my head shaking. What the fuck was going on here? It seemed as though the web was expanding, growing, yet the strings were being pulled tighter, myself at the very centre, suffocating.

"You… Knew? About Grimmjow and Inoue? Before I told you?"

He only nodded.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"What good would that have done, Ichigo?"

I felt my face fall slack as I moved once more to look out of the car window, watch the scenery fly by, reminding me very much of my own thoughts.

"Driver, I will be getting out here."

With that, Szayel left the vehicle without even looking back. I watched him walk down the street a little, duck into a building, before I realised I was being asked a question.

"What is your destination, Sir?"

I reeled off the address as though I still lived there, watched the driver tip his hat in understanding. Sat back in my seat once more, my mind reeling with nonsensical things. I was thankful for it. There was no way to prepare for what I was about to do.

* * *

><p>I glared at my finger as it shook, hovering over the buzzer.<p>

Taking a deep breath, I pushed the cold metal button firmly.

"Yeah?"

There was no joke, this time. No punch-line. No laughter.

I took a deep breath, my voice surprisingly steady as I mimicked a voice I had heard too often to not be able to reproduce.

"It is I, oh idiot brother of mine. Do let me in."

The buzzer signified my success, my lie, my last chance.

This was it.


	11. Si Je Reviens If I Return

**_A/N: Hello magnificent readers. I do hope you enjoy this chapter, and please read the AN at the end!_  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ten: Si Je Reviens (If I Return)<strong>

_Si tout doit recommencer_

_(If everything has to start again)_

_Si c'est qu'on ma dit est vrai_

_(If what I've been told is true)_

_S'il y a une vie après tu sais_

_(If there is a life after the one you know)_

_Si on peut vraiment choisir_

_(If we can really choose)_

_D'autre corps, d'autres desirs_

_(Another body, different desires)_

_Alors je suis d'accord_

_(Then I'll understand)_

_- Si Je Reviens, Steeve Estatof_

* * *

><p>I heard a heavy sigh as the door slowly opened.<p>

"Damn it, Szayel, I thought I told you to leave me the hell alo-"

The low, rumbling voice stopped as wide blue eyes met mine.

_Fuck._

_What the fuck do I do now?_

I could only stand and stare in silence. Stare at him - the filthy pyjamas, the slight pink to his eyes, the unshaven face, the complexion that betrayed ill-health - and feel my pulse slowly rise, panic, wonder what on earth might have happened to make him look like that. It overtook everything, the fear of him being in pain, pushing aside my jumbled thoughts and feelings to mix with my worry. My eyes moved to his lips as he licked them, my heart jolting in my chest when he opened his mouth as if to speak, only to close it once more. I wet my own lips, opened my own mouth.

"Gri-"

"Ichi-"

We spoke at the same time, interrupted each other, stopping so that the other might take a step forward, make the first move, act out any cliché phrase you might think of to describe such an indescribable need to progress, only to be held back by your own fear. He was supposed to be the strong one, wasn't he? I stopped myself as soon as the thought entered my mind. _No_. No, I knew better - I couldn't think like that anymore. I had to be just as strong, stronger. I had to prove myself to him. Show him. This was my last chance.

I took a literal step forward.

As I expected, he backed away, his shoulders tense, eyes wide as I stepped over the threshold to his home - I knew now, it could never be mine again, not as it had been - into the light that filtered through the open living room door. His back against the wall, he stood up straight, his eyes narrowing - against the light? Against the sight of me? I had no idea - his eyebrows pulling together as he scanned my face, as if searching for something without really knowing what to look for. His eyes moved downwards, then, roamed my figure, and I tried to stand tall but my head still hurt and my muscles still ached and I needed him to see how pathetic I had become. Needed to show him that I had hit rock bottom again. Show him that it had taught me something.

"You look like shit."

His voice was so hoarse, as if unused. Had he left the house, recently? I tried to search his eyes, but they were cold, calculating, reminding me very much of his younger half-brother. The brother that I had imitated in order to force my way into his life once more. Once. The last time. This time. What was I waiting for?

I needed to tell him.

"I-"

"Why the fuck're you here, Ichi?"

I felt a spark filter across my skin, my heart's frantic pace increasing further as he said my name. It wasn't Ichigo, or worse, _Kurosaki. _Part of me had been expecting that, expecting him to detach me from him in a way in which he had never done before. But no. Hope. Was that what this feeling was? I licked my lips - I felt so dry, dehydrated, I needed to keep going, moving forwards - said the only words I could think of.

"I relapsed."

I was too focused on the widening of his eyes, the way they were suddenly shining with unknown emotions - was he angry, disappointed, sad, did he even care at all? - to see the fist flying towards my face. His knuckles collided sharply with my cheek, the impact forcing my head to the side, skewing my balance, my hands having to reach out for the wall beside me. I could feel my cheek throb to the beat of my heart.

Head down, I watched his feet move and instinctually flinched - was this it, now? Why had I thought he'd still be there for me to turn to? I was so stupid - my shoulders tensing, waiting for the second impact, only to be surrounded by incredible heat. Those arms. Those powerful, protective arms.

He was _holding_ me.

_What does this mean?_

I felt hot breath against my neck, cracked lips forming mumbled words on my skin. They had been so soft, before, those lips. I tried to relax, but my body refused to comply, my hands moving stiffly instead of gently as I had asked them to be as they moved to his shoulders. I tried to pull him from me - I needed to hear what he had to say - but was only rewarded with the tightening of his grip. It was almost painful, but I knew more pain than this.

His lips met my ears.

The _heat_.

His voice was wet, something was dropping on my shoulder, an atmospheric rain, poignant.

"This is all my fault."

Whatever I had expected to hear, it hadn't been that. My reaction was instantaneous, my voice steadier than I could ever have thought it could be, my hands firmer as I pushed him away - I panicked momentarily at the thought, I didn't want to push this man away, not like he had done to me, so many times before - forced a little distance between our bodies. He wouldn't meet my eyes as I tried to catch them. The tears, though, I caught them. With my eyes, on my fingertips.

"No, Grimm. It's not your fault..."

I tried my best to swallow down the lump in my throat, but it didn't deter my voice from breaking, creaking - I sounded as bad as he did, now, who would have thought it could be the other way around? - my heart breaking to see this man cry. The few tears I had seen in the past had been sporadic at best, intermittent, dreamt at worst. But now, they fell freely from glassy azure, traced the contours of his cheeks - still perfect, under their harsh stubble - those which I could not catch dropping to the ground as soon as they were granted freedom.

"It was my decision. I wasn't strong enough- I _thought _I wasn't strong enough."

His eyes finally rose to meet mine, his head turning. My fingers, still tracing his cheek, followed the movement, and I couldn't help but stare at them, against his skin. I never wanted to stop touching him - not erotically, not in the heat of an argument, not in the slicing of pure, hot flesh - but the intimate caresses only recognised by those who had felt a desire such as this. It was still there, terrifying, deluded, an insanity of the heart. I wanted him to be a part of me, myself a part of him, to share the same soul, the same life.

Perhaps it was already so.

"_I'm Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. Nice to meet you, kid."_

"_My, my. Do you not wish to know if someone is interested in you?"_

"_Past your bedtime, eh kid?"_

"_You want this to feel even better, Ichigo?"_

"_You having your usual?"_

"_I miss you, Ichi. That's why I wanted to see you."_

"_I still love you. I never stopped loving you."_

"_C'mere. Let's curl up."_

"_Of course I want ya, Ichi. I... It's always…" _

"_I knew this would happen. I knew you two wouldn't be able to stay away from each other."_

"_It's you."_

"_It's always you."_

"_You'll never be good enough."_

"I know now, Grimm."

His hands shifted to my waist, rubbing his thumbs across my ribs, over my back, up my spine. Gently, as if scared. One of his hands raised to my face, cupped my jaw, tender traces from fingertips fluttering across my cheeks. His eyes seemed to cry out, although the tears no longer fell. What did he want from me? It looked as though he didn't know himself. I bit my lips, pushed myself a little closer to him. I read him as though he were a wild animal - I needed to be cautious, take small steps, a quiet voice, lest I scare him, or worse, anger him.

"I'm good enough."

His eyes flickered, his eyebrows marring in confusion.

"And so are you."

I closed the small distance between our bodies, this time - I could do this, I had to do this - pushed up onto my toes, cupped his jaw gently, brought his lips to mine. It was the slightest caress, heavily weighted with hope and fear. I kept my lips on his, unmoving - I feared I might lose control, if I pushed against him any further - took in the scent of Grimmjow, unclean, unshaven, yet the man I loved nonetheless. I felt his shuddering breath against my face, his hands frozen, yet still on my body.

I pulled back, tempted to return when I watched him lick his lips again - I wished it were my tongue, or my lips, or any part of my body against any part of his - but I resisted. I needed to wait in order to find out everything, find out what my future would hold. Would it be spent with this man? Was such a thing even possible, after everything that had happened?

My heart leapt at the possibility as his hands moved to grasp my shoulders, pull me closer to him, his nose rubbing against mine as he spoke against my lips, on my lips, his heat too close yet not at all uncomfortable as it shuddered over me once more.

"What are you gonna do, Ichi?"

I almost moaned at that voice. It was dark, heavy, desperate, with none of the anger that it had previously held. His fingers dug into my skin as he tried to close an imaginary space between us, his body melding to my own as he pushed me against the closest wall, his breath heavy against the sensitive skin of my face.

"I-"

I had to stop talking as his lips barely-brushed my jaw, had to swallow heavily as they danced over my neck, causing too many feelings for such little contact. I took a deep breath, tried to soothe the storm that was building in my chest, in my head - it was so like Grimmjow, to create such havoc, such destruction, little did I know he could also create - answered his question.

"I'm going to see Unohana."

He stiffened only slightly before nodding against my skin. What did that mean? There were too many questions filling my mind, barely held back by what little sanity I had left, by the pursing of my lips. But then, if I didn't ask, how would I find out? I had to be stronger, no - I _would_ be stronger.

"Would you-"

"Yeah."

I shut my mouth as he opened his, furrowed my brow as he pushed back from my neck to study my eyes. I didn't get it. It reminded me of all that time ago, when I would start asking him something - usually a request, that I would later turn into an order - but he would cut me off as soon as I said his name with a 'no', a teasing smirk. But he hadn't said no, the smirk wasn't there. I moved my face further from his, pushed a hand to his chest. Was he fucking with me?

"Do you even know what I wanted to ask you?"

His eyes didn't dance with their renowned teasing mischief, his lips didn't tilt at all as he replied.

"I don't give a fuck, Ichi…"

I almost panicked again - almost pushed him away, images of punching him, repaying the favour, flicking through my mind - but I knew I had to trust him. Now, like never before.

"Whatever you want me to do, I'll do it."

I was once again reduced to a staring silence. My heart was in my throat and I had to swallow it down, but it wasn't working and then his lips were on mine again, but this time it was Grimmjow that was moving forwards, his lips firmer than mine had been, more assured, confident in their decision. Was this what he truly wanted? I don't know why - perhaps it was his actions that told me, perhaps it was instinct - but that's what I believed. What I _knew_.

His hands moved to cup my face as he pulled back, his lips leaving mine to push against my forehead. I closed my eyes, hummed, but then I was brought back to reality by his voice, a reminder of what I had to do.

"What time's your appointment?"

The nerves that still lingered behind my ribs, that had slowed to a waltz in my stomach, began to once again rise up, their tempo increasing as I thought about going back to that place, starting this battle all over again. No, I couldn't think like that. This wasn't the same situation at all. I knew, now, that it wouldn't end the same way, either. This time, I would win.

"Five-thirty."

I felt him shift an arm to glance at his watch. He made a soft sound in his throat, nodded once. His hold slowly left mine, and as the cloth of his tee shirt left my fingertips, I almost reached out for him once more, forced him back into my arms. I didn't want to let go. I needed him to never let go.

"Lemme shower and we'll head off. You want tea?"

I blinked at him a little. He was really coming with me. That fact slowly sunk into my pounding brain. I cleared my throat a little before nodding.

"I can, er, I'll make it myself. If that's okay?"

He raised an eyebrow at me, his eyes holding onto mine for a little while, before he simply seemed to dismiss any thoughts he had been having, nodding at me again, moving towards the bathroom.

"'Course."

I watched him close the door behind him before I left the hallway, moved to the kitchen. Everything was still where it used to be, although the small room would never have been left in such a state had I lived there, still. Dirty plates and bowls, old take-out boxes and chopsticks were piled high over the counter, covering what I was sure would have been filthy surfaces. I rearranged them a little, rooted through the cupboards.

The only clean mug I could find was my own, sat alone on a shelf.

I stared at the small box of tea-bags in my hands. It still had my name written on it, from when we had play-fought over who appreciated Rooibos the most. My scrawled handwriting was proof of that particular win.

The clicking of the boiled kettle made me jump, made the tears spring free from full eyes. I shook my head, closed my eyelids. Deep breaths. Today was the first step. Hadn't I always been told to take it one step at a time? I just had to get through today. I knew I could, with Grimmjow at my side.

Cradling my too-hot mug in cold hands, I moved into the living room, intent on getting some not-so-fresh fresh air on the balcony. I stopped, however, as my eyes roamed over the chaos that seemed to have spilled over from the kitchen. There was an old blanket draped haphazardly over the sofa, cushions I didn't recognise spilling onto the floor.

Strewn over the coffee table lay beer cans, crisp packets, more take-out boxes - letters? I moved over to the small, low table, my eyebrows furrowing, not recognising at the first the different shapes and sizes of paper, of cards, the handwriting. I reached out, picked up one. Another. Again.

"_Happy Birthday, Grimm_

"_Try not to let me drink you under the table this time, old man! _

"_Love you_

"_Ichigo x"_

"_Grimm,_

"_Got no fucking clue how I've put up with you for three years_

"_But I guess it's not all bad, I mean you are paying for dinner..._

"_Aren't you?_

"_(Love you really)_

"_(Maybe)_

"_Happy Anniversary_

"_Ichigo x"_

"_I've run to the shop, seen as SOME douche used the last of the tea-bags. No more Rooibos for you! Be back before you know it x"_

"_I don't know where the fuck you've gone, Grimm, but give me a call when you get home. We need to talk."_

"_Sleep on the sofa, asshole."_

"_Fuck you, I'm gone."_

I started as I heard the shower turn off in the bathroom the other side of the wall, replaced the notes as accurately as I could with such glazed vision, tears once again falling as I moved to the balcony, pulling open the door. As I stepped out, I noticed that the once healthy and proud plants drooped miserably in their pots, the chair lying defeated on its side. Picking it up, I sat down on the cold plastic, took a sip of my cooling tea, fished out a cigarette.

This place was _haunted_.

* * *

><p>"Kurosaki-san, please come in."<p>

I jumped slightly, looked up at the woman who I hadn't seen for almost four years. She didn't look a day older, her cheeks still rounded by her soft smile, her eyes kind when they weren't shut in contemplation. I nodded, moved to look at Grimmjow. He was already standing at my side, a hand offered out to me. I took it, pretended not to notice the slight shake to it. I knew my own probably wasn't faring any better. Hand in hand, fingers linked, we followed Unohana into her office.

The drive hadn't been awkward, as I thought it would have been. Perhaps it was the lethargy I felt - seeping into my bones, numbing my mind - the exhaustion of emotions bared, lulling us into a silence which neither wished to break. Grimmjow had emerged from the bathroom almost at his former glory - clean-shaven, hair styled, teeth brushed - the slight lankness to his frame the only betrayal to his wavering strength, and we had left with nothing but knowing glances.

"I must say, I hadn't expected to see you again."

The chairs were as uncomfortable as I remembered them. I squirmed a little under the woman's soft gaze. It should have been comforting, but it had something behind it. Authority, perhaps. Knowledge. I nodded, not knowing what to say. She stared at me a little longer, as if asking me to elaborate. When I couldn't find the words, she prompted me.

"Would you like to tell me what happened?"

I had to look away from her, look at the hands now linked in my lap, only one of which my own.

"I relapsed."

It wasn't easier to say, the second time around.

"Cocaine?"

I nodded again. The word made me want to be sick.

"I see. It is not uncommon to slip back once, or even twice. Many people are still able to resist the urge to use again. Perhaps you should go home, give it some time-"

"_No_!"

I could see Grimmjow from the corner of my eye, the quick motion of his head as it shot to look at me. I wasn't surprised. I myself was shocked at my outburst, but the jumping of my heart showed my panic, my reason. I knew I couldn't just go home. I knew it wouldn't be fine, not without getting this out. Unohana simply leaned back in her chair, linked her hands.

"I mean- I- It wasn't like that."

I tried to find the words, thankful for the silence of the other two. Not that I expected Grimmjow to speak. His hand, warming my own, was enough.

"It wasn't like I wanted to just do it one more time. It wasn't like I thought I could go back to how I was after a line or two. I wanted to use, and keep using. I wanted to give my life up for it... Again."

The hand around mine tightened. Unohana nodded.

"What would you like to do, Kurosaki-san? We could use the same treatment as last time, but I don't think it would be as effective in this case."

I moved my eyes to hers. I needed to show her I was being honest, that I could do this.

"I just want drugs out of my life. Completely. Cold turkey."

She narrowed her eyes, although her smile remained intact. It was only slight, but I noticed it. I swallowed heavily. I knew what was coming. She was sure to chew me out for breaking the rules of my rehabilitation.

"You've been taking other substances, in place of cocaine?"

I nodded, watched as she moved forwards to grab a pen from the side, readied it above a notepad.

"Please list them."

I couldn't look at her, couldn't look at the tightening hand in my lap, choosing instead to study a blank wall as I took a deep breath, tried to remember everything I had taken over the last seven or so months, listed them slowly.

"Temazepam, Tramadol, Cocodamol, Valium, Ketamine, MDMA, Marijuana, Alcohol… Nicotine. Although I'd quite like to keep my cigarettes, and maybe the occasional beer, if I'm giving up all the others."

I gave a wry smile, although I was completely serious.

"I see."

Unohana leant forwards again, rested her elbows on her desk, her head on her linked hands. Her eyes flicked over to Grimmjow briefly before settling back on mine. I wondered if my cheek had started to bruise yet, if she had already made presumptions.

"May I ask what made you want to start using again?"

I felt the man beside me stiffen, his hand loosen around mine. I squeezed it, held it firmly in my own, where it was supposed to be. I had to show him. If I could do this, he could too.

"A lot of stuff happened. A lot of big changes. But I can't blame that. It was me. I wasn't strong enough to cope with things. So I chose to escape reality instead of dealing with it. I… I want to be strong enough."

"It is already a huge leap forward, Kurosaki-san, to be able to realise that. To want to be free from usage is the most essential factor in becoming free from it. Please remember that."

I nodded, watched as she finally settled her eyes on Grimmjow.

"Jaegerjaquez-san, I am happy to see you are still supporting him."

I could see him turn away from her gaze, away from me. I wasn't surprised that he hadn't escaped her scrutiny.

"I haven't been."

Her eyebrows raised, eyes flickering between the two of us. I squeezed his hand again.

"Which is why I came here today. I want help, too."

"Are you also using hard drugs?"

I felt my eyebrow raise. Grimmjow, drugs? The thought was almost funny. I could see why she asked, though, why she looked confused. Although, when I looked closer, I could see the curve of her lips was just a little more pronounced than earlier, as though she knew what he really meant, but wanted to make him say it. I watched him as he raised his free hand to his face, massaged the bridge of his nose.

"No. I want to know how to properly support Ichigo."

I couldn't take my eyes off him as I watched his determined eyes lock on Unohana's own. As if sensing my gaze, he turned those eyes to me, lifted our hands slightly before dropping them back on my thigh. I don't know why the action felt so reassuring.

"I'm not going anywhere. Not this time."

The silence was so pronounced, the only thing I could hear being my own frantic pulse. Had I gone deaf? Grimmjow was still looking at me, I could feel the heat of his gaze as it moved over my features, returned to my eyes, flickering as if searching. Did this mean-

"I'm very glad to hear that, Jaegerjaquez-san, and am of course more than happy to help., although I am afraid the advice I can give you is reasonably limited."

We both jumped. Started paying attention. I swallowed heavily as her words sunk in.

"Be strong. Be a team. A new environment might also help - the idea of a fresh start is very important, especially after a relapse such as this. You see, as far as Kurosaki-san is concerned, this is no longer a matter of rehabilitation.

"This is a matter of recovery."

* * *

><p>Grimmjow had nodded at Unohana before turning back to me, his hand slipping from my own, moving to my shoulder, pushing himself up to stand.<p>

"_I'll be waiting outside, Ichi."_

I hadn't wanted him to leave, but I knew he had to. There were some things I could only do myself. I thanked Unohana, left the room with a promise of hard work to match my new-found determination, her words running a never-ending track around my mind.

"_It would seem that Jaegerjaquez-san is blaming himself for your relapse. You realise this, don't you, Kurosaki-san?"_

"_Yeah, I know."_

"_May I ask, do you think it is his fault?"_

"_No. Well, not any more. I- we broke up. A lot of shit happened. But it wasn't his fault, I know that now. I just didn't understand what was going on his head, not until recently."_

"_Is that so? Well, let me tell you something. I believe in you two, Kurosaki-san. I can see it. You're both so different to how you were when I last saw you. You'll be okay, this time. Now, go. I don't expect to see your ridiculously bright head anywhere near my office anytime soon, understood?"_

Closing the door behind me, I leant back against the wood, closed my eyes, let out a long breath. When I finally pushed away from the door, looked up, Grimmjow was standing before me, his hand outstretched. I took it in my own again, felt myself relax despite the circumstances.

"C'mon, we're getting out of here."

His hand held mine over the gear-stick. Pulled me out of the car. Up the stairs.

It only left when we pushed through the door to the flat, as Grimmjow walked swiftly into the bedroom. The door swung shut behind him, left me confused, my hand too cold, still reaching out for something that was no longer there. I moved almost nervously - did he want me to follow him? - to push open the door.

The bed was slightly rumpled, the window open as usual, a cool draft hitting me as the door shut itself once more. This room held none of the mess, none of the disrepair that the rest of the flat seemed to, though.

"Why is it so tidy in here?"

I gazed out of the window as I asked.

"I haven't been able to sleep in that bed."

I stared at it a little - it didn't look like there was anything wrong with it - before I followed Grimmjow's voice to see him rooting around the bottom of the mirrored wardrobe. I wanted to ask what he was looking for, but the words died in my throat as he leant back to look at me, continued to speak, his eyes wary.

"Not since you were last here."

I felt my mouth fall open slightly, my chest ache at his confession, but before I could do anything about it - but what would I have done, really? - Grimmjow was moving back to stand, pulling with him a bag. He threw the empty, open fabric onto the bed, before pulling things out of drawers, stuffing them inside.

In minutes, it had been filled with clothes. He pulled it up over his shoulder, raised an eyebrow when he saw me staring, my face blank despite my whirring thoughts. He placed a hand on my cheek and I flinched unintentionally, surprised. I hated the look of hurt that put on his face. His brows were furrowed, now, his eyes still holding on to something reserved.

"You okay?"

I didn't know the answer to that, so I replied with the question that had been bugging me since we had come back.

"What are you doing?"

"Hmm?"

He opened the door, held it there, gestured with his head for me to leave first.

"I thought I told you, we're getting out of here."

* * *

><p>It was only once Grimmjow had driven me to my family's house, once he'd helped me pack a few things, once we were on the road, steaming coffee in our hands, that I thought to ask where it was exactly we were going.<p>

"I phoned Szayel while you were with Unohana. We're going to the summer house."

My brain wasn't working very well.

"But it's not summer."

His eyes left the road in front of him to give me a pointed look, a raised eyebrow.

"What, you wanna go back to that shithole?"

"You're the one who turned it into a shithole."

How had this conversation happened? I looked out of the window, the smallest smirk pulling at my lips. I had almost forgotten how easy it was just to _talk _to Grimmjow.

"True. But that's not the point. Remember what Unohana said?" He put down his coffee in the cup holder, moved to grab my hand once more. "A new environment."

When I actually thought about it, it made sense. Would I really be able to think straight, if I was back there? Would I be able to accept this as a beginning, not a continuation of a traumatic past? But wait- I tried to search his eyes. They were focused on the road. I took a moment to watch him drive, lick his lips, before I asked him. A loaded question, one with too many meanings to clearly answer.

"A new start?"

His eyes did not stray to mine, but his hand gripped my own a little tighter.

"If I haven't shown you that already, there's not a lot more I can do, Ichi."

The summer home was another beautiful building, owned by Grimmjow and Szayel's father, passed down to the two sons to use as they wished. It wasn't huge, like Szayel's manor. It was a small villa, clean and neat and simple. As we walked through the door I dropped my bag to the floor, took the time to gaze up and around. We'd never been here before - I supposed we never had found much time to get away, just the two of us. As I looked around, I felt no pang of tears, no pressure on my chest. Why would I? This place was so unfamiliar, so untainted with memories.

It was _perfect_.

Grimmjow dropped his bag next to mine. I caught his eyes, wondered if the uncertainty in them would dissipate with my own anytime soon. If we could really start again. He took my hand in his own, pulled me with him through the house, into the kitchen. No matter how many times he did it, no matter how often his hand touched mine, it felt like the first time. I took a seat at the breakfast bar, continued the journey of the room with my eyes, as Grimmjow set the kettle to boil.

A steaming mug was placed under my nose. I looked up to see Grimmjow taking a seat opposite me, his hands wrapped around his own mug. Once he was seated, his eyes lifted to mine.

"Thanks."

He nodded, looked down at his mug, took a sip. I followed suit, appreciating the soothing burn of the hot liquid. Rooibos. Unspoken questions weighed down the air, made it feel heavy around my shoulders. How were we even supposed to start talking about this, about us? How were we supposed to fix something that had felt so broken?

"Y'know, the whole Inoue thing… I really did break up with her when I said I did."

I nodded. The pang that usually accompanied her name was still there, but it had considerably lessened. His voice only soothed it further, low and unsure and vulnerable. He was showing me things I had never seen before, opening himself up for me to see, and I was more than grateful.

"I know."

"I… I only got together with her because I thought it was what you were supposed to do, you know that?"

He was shaking his head, seemingly to himself, as he sighed.

"Jeez, I'm such an asshole."

I allowed my lips to quirk just a little.

"Well I'm not going to deny that…"

His eyes shot up to mine, almost worried, but calming once they read my own. He shook his head again, his own lips tilting as he traced his hand around the rim of his mug.

"Did I ever tell you about that girl I helped get away from Yammy's?"

His eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

"That time he put you in hospital?"

I nodded.

"That was Inoue."

Grimmjow choked on his tea, spluttering, almost dribbling all over himself, and I couldn't help but let out a laugh. His reaction was so genuine, so _Grimmjow._

"_What?"_

"Yup."

"How the fuck did you find that one out?"

"She told me last night."

"Wait, wait- last night?"

"Yeah, at Szayel's."

"_Szayel _knows her? Why the fuck didn't he say anything about it?"

He looked confused, disturbed even, muttering something to himself about insanity and questionable relations. I couldn't help but think he shouldn't have been so surprised. I mean, it was _Szayel_. But the fact that he hadn't known any of this, that he had also been kept in the dark, was a little reassuring. I wasn't going to explain it all to him, not right now, in any case. The details could wait. For now, I just wanted the look of guilt to be erased from his features. To do that, there was one thing that I knew I _did_ have to explain.

"Listen, Grimm…"

He stopped his muttering, his eyes back on mine at once.

"Renji didn't mean anything to me."

I saw his hand tighten around his mug, his shoulders tense.

"Don't say that if it ain't true."

I felt my own hand grip into a fist as I tried to push myself forwards. I needed to get the words out, just as he had.

"It is true. I just… I didn't know what else to do, and he was there and- and I ended up totally screwing him over."

I swallowed heavily. I supposed I did feel a _little _guilty about it, now that I remembered the whole fiasco. I offered Grimmjow a small smile.

"I guess you're not the only asshole here."

His smile mirrored mine a little before he took a sip of his tea, stared off to the side for a while.

"If you could do anything right now, Ichi, what would it be?"

I was thankful that he hadn't let the silence become uncomfortable, but was also confused by the obscurity of his question. I knew the answer, although I didn't know if it was the one he was looking for.

"I'd be with you."

His eyes finally met mine again, then. His gaze was steady as he nodded slowly.

"What else?"

I hadn't thought that far.

"I don't care."

He sighed.

"Yeah, you do. You don't wanna work for that sandal-hat guy your entire life, right? You know that if you did, anything we tried to do, wouldn't work. You don't enjoy it, it ain't fulfilling, it's a boring as shit routine that would take you back to square one… C'mon, are you telling me there's nothing at all you'd like to do, if you had the chance?"

I thought about it a while, sipped my tea with concentration. I couldn't look at him.

"I guess… I guess I'd like to work with recovering addicts. I know I wouldn't be able to, not yet, but-"

"Then do it."

My eyes flew back up to his. How did he make things sound so simple? My mind was protesting, telling me that things just weren't that fucking easy, but I promptly told it to shut up. I wanted, just for a little while, to pretend that they were. A simpler existence, as though just the two of us existed.

"What about you?"

He shrugged and I almost chuckled. I knew he wouldn't have an answer, even after pressuring me into one. I watched as he stretched a little before placing his elbows on the counter top, staring into his tea, his hands on the back of his neck.

"I guess I could do anything, really. The logical thing to do would be to try to set up my own business, I mean I've basically done it before."

Something wasn't quite adding up.

"Wait, what about Espada?"

He shrugged, looked up at me.

"I quit."

"Wh-"

"Well, actually… I kinda got fired." He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

"How the fuck did _that_ happen?"

I was genuinely shocked. The Grimmjow I knew was very much work-orientated - he'd never had a day off in his life, much less lost a job. His eyes seemed to darken as they moved back to gaze into the cooling tea.

"I didn't show up for a while. Apparently you're not s'posed to do that when you're a manager." His voice sounded heavy, sarcastic, but then his eyes were shining up at me, his mouth curling into a smirk, the likes of which I hadn't seen in far too long. "Did _you_ know that?"

I couldn't help it. I let out a still-shocked laugh, shook my head at him in disbelief.

"What are you going to do?"

His head tilted. I watched as his characteristically disobedient hair fell to one side, one of his eyebrows raising with a confidence I hadn't seen for far too long, his smirk widening, and all I could think was _this is the real Grimmjow. This is the man I love._

"Don't you mean what're _we_ gonna do?"

This was it.

This was really it.

I swallowed. Nodded.

He spoke. He knew.

"Anything. We could do anything, Ichigo."

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: Okay, so here's the deal, beloved readers. I'm quite happy to leave Recovery here, but I'm also willing to write an epilogue (which will of course include an immense amount of fanservice, by which I mean sex.) In fact, I may already have half a smut-filled chapter written, but I'm afraid I can't offer you anything in the way of speedy delivery (I'm sorry, but my course has somehow got more intense? Seriously I didn't think that was possible) So basically, please go vote on the poll on my profile, and you will (hopefully) get what you want :') _**

**_Until then, I'm going to leave this as incomplete, and I hate to say it, but the way this course is going, I highly doubt I'll have much time for writing. I suppose the next full-length fic you can expect from me is 'Perfect Soul' which is, (sorry GrimmIchi devotees), IchiRuki. _**

**_In any case, please let me know what you thought of this chapter. Lots of love x_**


End file.
